


Fixing Family

by Living_Free



Series: Slip and Slide [53]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Absolute ignorance of physics, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Catwoman Has a Sidekick | Catlad | Stray (DCU), Baby Dick Grayson, Batfamily, Batfamily (DCU), Batgirl - Freeform, Batkids Age Reversal, Crack, Damian - Freeform, Dick Grayson is Catlad | Stray, Eyeliner is applied, Fluff, Gen, Humor, M/M, Magic, Nightwing - Freeform, Not an actual baby, Not our Timmy the other one, Priest Jason Todd, Red Hood - Freeform, Red Robin, Robin - Freeform, Soft Jason Todd, Super handsome Adonis Older Damian Wayne, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim and his miniskirt, Tim!Bats, Villain Dick Grayson, Villain Tim Drake, get rekt newton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25423777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Fate makes a decision.The Robins must make sure that justice is done.A piece of technology comes alive,and the boys must face whatever situation the universe has contrived.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Slip and Slide [53]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/925041
Comments: 92
Kudos: 272





	1. Timmy, You're Not At Home Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!
> 
> I have decided that the direction that DC is going in with regard to Batman is puke-inducing, so I'm going to fix it!
> 
> Every chapter in this fic will deal with a Batboy being thrown into a different universe and resolving whatever storyline that I come up with! Some storylines are straight-up DC mess-ups (Evil Timmy Batman, Evil Damian, Forever Angry Jason), I could go on forever. 
> 
> Chapter One: Age Reversal - this is a fairly popular trope and ask, I thought I might try this to start off.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It was a particularly warm and lazy Saturday afternoon, and for some reason, all the Bats were down in the cave. Dick was bemoaning this state of their collective being, and insisting that they - Tim - needed sunshine for vitamin D and adequate serotonin production.

For his part, Tim was content to be kicking Jason’s butt in the training ring, making good use of the mobility provided by his teeny-tiny accordion skirt. Jason was particularly irate, because half of his erratic dodging was on account of not wanting to see Tim’s panties whenever the chaotic butterfly-boy aimed a kick his way. 

Frustrated, Jason decided that enough was enough, and panties or not, Tim was going down. With an almighty rumble, Jason picked himself up from the mat and charged Tim, who quickly realized the danger he was in, and legged it, only to fail and be crushed by the weight of Jason sitting on him.

“Owie,” Tim moaned, having been forced to eat dirt. 

“And that, young pudding pops, is how you defeat a panty-flashing foe,” Jason lectured Damian, Jon, and Terry, who had been watching from the sidelines. They applauded politely, while Tim weaseled his way out from underneath Jason’s formidable tushy.

Having freed himself, Tim suddenly burst out, causing Jason to flop over, cursing. He should have crushed the little twink when he had the chance. “Heck, heck, heck,” Jason cursed, as he saw Tim sadistically readying his power-move. Tim charged, and Jason winced, waiting for the blow-

That never came. 

Instead, Tim made a little ‘eep!’ sound, and disappeared into the ether.

***

We catch up with our young hero now, as he reappeared in precisely the same spot, mid-kick, and crashed into a tall, statuesque man, who crumpled with him like an attractive pile of jenga. 

Tim quickly scrambled up, and took in his surroundings. This was the Batcave alright, and the man on the floor was now on his feet, glaring at him through poisonous green eyes that he had come to grudgingly love. 

“Drake.”

Oh no.

Tim squeaked and made to run, only for this older version of Damian to reach out and snag him around the waist. “No! Leggo!” Tim squeaked, as Damian the Elder swiftly turned him upside down and regretted it, on account of the aforementioned miniskirt.

“Drake! Cease flailing! What are you doing? Where did you come from?”

Tim stopped kicking his legs, and glared at Damian from his topsy-turvy position. “I don’t know! And who are you? My Damian isn’t some jacked Adonis-person, he’s short and has a nose like a lumpy pancake!”

The better looking Damian set Tim down none too gently. “I will have you know that I grew into my nose.” He paused to observe Tim. “Clearly, this is a case of universal displacement. Nonetheless, I must verify your identity. State your name and alter ego.”

“Tim Drake-Wayne,” Tim huffed. “Alias Red Robin. Soulmate of Superboy, leader of the Titans, and CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”

Damian’s eyebrows jumped up at the mention of Superboy. “Clearly, not much has changed in your universe. You are still to be wed to Superboy here.”

Tim’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

“Oh yes. Only, I believe the circumstances of your meeting were different. Here, you met Superboy when you were being evil and moody, and met with Luthor to bankroll your little Outlaw gang. He introduced you to his son, and you became the Outlaws, along with that little chit of a boy-”

“Bart!?” Tim beamed.

“-that’s the one. The Outlaws. Bah, how pretentious.”

Suddenly, Tim realized the meaning behind Damian’s words. He was the leader of the Outlaws in this universe, which was Jason’s role in his own world. Which meant-

“I died?” Damian looked surprised at Tim’s subdued tone. “I died, didn’t I? I- I’m the Red Hood here, aren’t I?”

Damian nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“And- and you’re Nightwing, then?”

Damian shook his head. “Nightingale. Why, am I called Nightwing in your universe?”

“No, you’re Robin. Dick is Nightwing. Which means-”

Damian’s eyes widened. “Richard? But he is Robin, that means-”

“Our ages are reversed,” Tim realized. “Everything is the same, but our ages are reversed.”

“Very astute,” a familiar voice said from above, and they looked up to see the Red Hood walking down with a wry smile. Tim stared at this version of himself - in what should be Jason’s jacket, guns strapped to his thighs, and a red helmet under his arm. “My devices picked up a space-time aberration,” he explained, walking over to stand next to his Damian. He looked at Tim. “Why are you wearing a skirt?”

Tim gasped. “Because! It’s freeing, and I have nice legs, and Kon likes to touch them!”

Other-Tim, as Tim now thought of him, smirked. “He sure does. Only, I make him work to see my legs. Hence the pants.”

Tim faltered, then smiled hesitantly. Maybe this world wasn’t so bad. 

Damian, however, had had quite enough. “Cease at once! There shall be no more talk of the Clone!”

“Just because you’ve ascended to motherhood, doesn’t mean that the rest of us can’t have love lives.”

“I am not a mother, you cad, I am merely an appropriately caring older brother to my-”

“Dami?” 

Everyone turned around to see what was possibly the sweetest little boy at the doorway. “Richard,” Damian said evenly, even as the boy ran up to hug his leg. Tim gaped at the gentle affection that Damian showed as he bent down to comb his fingers through baby Dick’s hair. “What is it, my beloved gem? Why have you not slept? Patrol was very tiring tonight.”

“Was daddy Bruce snoring too loud again?” Other-Tim asked.

“Too much arm hair,” Dick said sadly. 

“I will come up to sleep shortly, little one,” Damian said, “but for now, Drake has mucked up the space-time continuum, and we must return this imposter to his own world.”

For the first time, Dick looked fully at Tim. “Hi Timmy.”

Tim gaped. “H-hi Dick.”

“I like your skirt,” Dick observed. 

“Thanks, I like it too,” Tim smiled. “It’s very swishy when I do this,” he said, and swung his hips from side to side. Dick giggled and hid his face in Damian’s shoulder. Damian smiled softly, and raised his hand, allowing a small blue butterfly illusion to appear. “Look Richard, it is your spirit animal.” Dick looked up and giggled. Damian then changed the butterfly into a small salamander. “Behold, it is Drake.”

Dick burst out laughing, his laughter like a thousand dainty wind chimes in the breeze. Vaguely, Tim thought he saw a tiny puff of pink erupt from Dick. Oh no, he was a magical puffball in this universe too. 

“I shall put Richard to bed and then return shortly,” Damian informed them, vanishing the Tim-salamander. “Do try not to mess up in the interim,” he addressed both Tims, who began making affronted noises, much akin to some Victorian ladies who had been accused of forgetting their gloves in the parlour. 

“Night,” Dick called happily, as the doors shut, leaving Tim and Tim together. 

“So,” Tim said to his older, jaded self. “How’s life?”

“Nice enough,” Other-Tim grunted. “Died once.”

“I gathered,” Tim nodded. “My condolences.”

“Thanks,” Other-Tim said. “So I guess it was Jason who died in your world? What with the age reversals-”

“Yeah it was him,” Tim said. “I hope you weren’t a dipshit to him when he became Robin. It’s not his fault, y’know. He wasn’t trying to replace you.”

“I know,” Other-Tim said. “I was mad for a while when I came back. Bruce was bad at emotions, Damian is an eternal twerp, and then there was this new kid being a pain in my ass. Things were bad for a while.”

“What fixed them then?” Tim asked. “Apart from Bruce being thrown into the time warp.”

“Bruce being ‘dead’ was a wake-up call for everyone,” Other-Tim nodded. “It showed us that no man was an island. Also, Jason was using Dick as ‘cute-bait’ to lure me back into the fold.”

“Cute-bait?”

“Y’know, cute kid that smiles at you, hugs you after patrol, calls you his ‘big brudder’. Basically an anti-Damian,” Other-Tim explained with a small smile. “He also caused Damian to mellow out a lot. Motherhood is a good look on him. He calls Dick these weird pet names, like ‘my little gem’, ‘my vicious raisin’, and ‘my precious saber.”

“Damian had a messed up childhood, huh,” Tim mused. 

“Sure did. Between Bruce and Talia, he never stood a chance, the poor idiot.”

Tim chortled. He couldn’t wait to get back and inform his Damian that he was as big of a hen as Dick was to him. “What about Jason?”

“What about him?”

“What is he like?”

Other-Tim cocked his head in thought. “He’s cool. Didn’t expect him to get quite so buff, though. I met him when he was fifteen, and then we were beefing for a while, and next thing I know, he’s the size of one of Kon’s tractors.”

“I meant personality-wise.”

“Oh,” Other-Tim huffed a laugh. “He’s nice. Super gentle. He’s eighteen now, he’s going to Gotham University this year. He’s majoring in Romance Languages.”

“My Jason’s majoring in Literature.”

“That’s cool. We’re chill now, we go on double dates so that Bruce doesn’t have a fit about his precious petal child being desecrated. As if anyone could touch Jason without being utterly wrecked by him.”

Tim grimaced. “I think that Bruce is more worried about you.”

“What? Why?” Other-Tim goggled.

“Bruce has this thing about Kon. He’s bitter that I like the Kent Farm and he thinks that Kon is going to ‘steal me away’. So yeah, I think that you’re the one Bruce is obsessed about protecting. Not Jason.”

“Oh,” Other-Tim said, surprise colouring his voice. Clearly, he had not considered this. “Bruce thinks that I’ll abandon him?”

“Kinda. He’s got all these anal rules for me, like I can’t get married till I’m twenty-one, no sinful activities, Kon and I have to have chaperoned double dates with Jason and Roy, no dates after 10pm, and so on.”

“Why only you?” Other-Tim asked. 

“Because I’m baby, I guess,” Tim shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’m still going to marry Kon and have three kids with him and live on the farm and also be Red Robin and CEO. Bruce is just being all weird and patriarchal. Also he’s super insecure about not being a good dad.”

Other-Tim hummed. “He got better with practice,” he admitted. “Bruce seriously mucked up with Damian, he was super against Dames learning magic. It almost drove him back to the League. I guess he has some hangups about me too. The only one that he’s properly dadly with is Dick, and even then Damian muscled in and became pseudo-mom.”

“Oh my god, Damian,” Tim gaped. “How am I going to go back and look my little frog-faced brother in the eye, knowing that he’s going to turn into some kind of evil Adonis?”

Other-Tim barked out a laugh at the description of Damian’s youthful features. “He did look like a frog, oh my god, I’d forgotten! I’m totally breaking out the old photo album tomorrow.” Other-Tim wiped a tear from his eye. “He’d mostly grown out of it by the time I joined the family, but there were remnants of amphibian traits in him even then.”

Tim giggled, and yawned. He hadn’t realized how tired he was. His counterpart looked clinically at him. “We can work out how to get you back to your own world after you’ve had a nap. You can borrow Cass’ nightclothes for a bit, she won’t mind.”

Tim grinned at how well his counterpart had gotten a read on him. “What’s your Cass like?” 

“Same as yours, I’d wager. Super quiet, super nice, super violent when the need arises.”

“Yup, that’s Cass alright. I’m actually looking forward to meeting everyone.”

“You will,” Other-Tim said. “Come on up, you can kip in Dick’s room. Damian is probably being a hen and keeping Dick with himself tonight.”

“To be fair, my Dick does that too. He has an adjoining room for Terry’s nursery, and Damian set up a diwan in there.”

Other-Tim paused and looked up in askance. “Terry?”

“Oh. Dick and Wally’s baby boy.”

“WHAT!”

With a smile, Tim began to explain. There was a lot of ground to cover before bedtime.

***

Tim awoke in this new world to the unmistakably boorish and rough prods of Jason Peter Todd-Wayne. “Oh my god, Tim wasn’t shitting me, there is really another one of you,” Jason was marvelling. 

Tim peered up at this slightly off version of Jason, the same age as himself. This Jason looked not too far removed from the one Tim was used to - he was still inhumanly buff, but had an unfamiliar lightness to him. He smiled more easily, for one thing. Tim noticed too, that his eyes did not carry the haze of the Pit, the rage that his own brother kept so closely guarded. This Jason’s eyes were a clear, ocean blue, untainted by the red that could take over in his bouts of rage-induced Pit madness.

Tim wondered if his own counterpart ever saw red. 

Instead, he stuck his tongue out. “Nyeh. I’m the prettier one.”

“Not so, my Tim looked as much of a twink as you do now before he got dunked in the Pit and came out all edgy and angsty.”

Tim’s smile held, but the thought of  _ better me than you _ rang loudly through his head. This Jason had never had to experience the horrors of the Pit. He was a kinder and gentler version of the man Tim knew, more willing to show affection that did not come in the form of rough noogies or little, evil, pinches. This Jason was able to hug his Bruce without any associated trauma. This Jason had never doubted that his Bruce loved him. 

“The Pit sucks.”

Jason nodded. “Can’t argue with you there. It really messed my Timmy up for a while. I may have snuck into the League’s base and thrown a can of Dr. Pepper into the Pit. It took them ages to clean up, the Pit water reacts really badly with soda.”

Tim and Jason shared a high-five, which was interrupted by Damian’s annoyed squawk. “Todd, did I just hear you confess to polluting the Pit of Primordial Healing Waters?”

“It’s a Pit of Suck Ass, it messed Tim up!”

“There are other methods of extracting revenge than dirtying a primordial remnant of nature, have I taught you nothing, child?”

“Yeah!” Baby Dick sang, bouncing into the room. “Dami taught me all about revenge! It’s so that your enemies never forget that you are capable of causing them double the ruin that they caused unto you, and it will keep them in check in the future!”

“Excellent analysis, my sweetling,” Damian said proudly. 

Dick beamed and looked up at Tim. “Hiya.”

“Heyo,” Tim said. “Y’know, in my world, you’re all grown up, and you’re best friends with Jason.”

Dick gasped happily, as though being besties with Jason was the best thing in the world. “Really?” Jason smiled and gave Dick a cuddle, and Tim moved the conversation to a slightly lighter topic.

“Who’s your favourite baddie to beat up?”

“Ooh! I like to beat up Scarecrow,” Dick enthused, “because he’s a big meanie, and Damian says that he preys on the most vulnerable. He screams real loud when I hit ‘im!”

“Cool,” Tim smiled. “What about you, Jay?”

“Honestly, it always felt good pounding on the Joker. It felt like it brought me closer to Tim. Until, of course, your man Damian here went and offed him for good.”

Tim perked up and looked shrewedly at Damian, who raised an eloquent eyebrow at him. “Was it an accident? In my universe, you killed him by accident, and then I had to help you cover it up.”

“Richard, go and wake father,” Damian instructed. “If he does not wake, then tell him that I told you to pluck out his chest hairs.” They watched Dick run out before Damian turned back to respond. “It was no accident. He was trying to complete what he had started, by killing the Robin Who Returned. When it came down to the legality of my actions and Drake’s life, the choice was obvious.”

“Does your Tim know?” Tim asked. 

Damian pursed his lips. “He suspects, I am sure. Death by a Thousand Cuts is a traditional sentence in the League of Assassins.”

“And Bruce?”

“Father suspected Drake himself, but could never find evidence. He even suspected mother of avenging her protege.”

“But it was you.”

“Indeed.”

They fell silent after a while, looking up only with Dick led a half asleep Bruce into the room. He paused, staring at this younger version of Tim, wearing Cass’ slinky little nightgown, his little toes poking out from the end of the blankets. “Universal displacement. Please tell me that this is universal displacement.”

“It is,” Damian confirmed, and Bruce sagged with relief. 

“Hello Tim.”

“Heyo, Bruce.”

Bruce looked conflicted, recognizing that it was at a slightly younger age that he had lost his own Tim. He had never been able to see his son as an eighteen year old, his Tim having died at fifteen. Bruce reached out a finger and prodded Tim’s cheek, and when he faced little resistance, ran his hand through Tim’s hair in a dadly manner. 

Just then, the Other-Tim appeared at the doorway, made a strangled noise at seeing affection being spilled left and right, and quickly ran off, though not before grabbing tiny Dickie. “Don’t look, Dickiebird, they’re being icky.”

Dick giggled and allowed himself to be carted off like a cute sack of potatoes. Bruce, however, looked saddened that his own Tim would never be so receptive to his love. 

“That boor, ugh,” Damian grumbled. “Where is he taking Richard, he had best not be going to that pancake cafe.”

“What’s wrong with pancakes?” Tim asked, wriggling his toes over to tickle Jason.

“Pancakes are a dessert food, unfit for the morning meal,” Damian explained heatedly. “Now Drake seeks to inculcate this boorish habit into Richard, and sway him from my healthy morning meals.”

Tim stared at Damian as he stomped off. “Wow, he’s so much like my Damian. I bet that he draws little smiley faces on Dick’s sandwiches too.”

“He draws miniature swords, actually,” Jason corrected him. “Dick has to guess the type of sword.”

“Oh my god. He’s such a type-A mom.”

“I wish you would stop saying that,” Bruce said. “Damian and Dick are my sons. I do not appreciate the insinuation that one of my sons is pseudo-parenting alongside me.”

“Relax, it’s the same thing with Dick in my universe,” Tim said. “My Bruce and Dick co-parent Damian. My Dick actually adopted Damian when Bruce died.” The uncomfortable silence that met his words had Tim’s eyes bugging out of his skull in realization. “Oh my god.”

“Please-” Bruce started-

“Damian adopted Dick!?”

Bruce sighed as Jason nodded. “Got it in one.”

“Oh barf, they’re so cute,” Tim marvelled. “A tale as old as time.”

“True as it can be,” Jason continued, to Tim’s joy.

“Barely even bros,”

“Before his maternal side shows,”

“Dami and Lil’ Dick~” Jason and Tim sang together, as Bruce threw up his hands and stomped off as Tim and Jason shared lad-like chest bumps and fist pumps.

The disaster duo trundled back down to the cave, where they found Other-Tim hunched over a mirror, assiduously applying eyeliner to gain his signature edgy-boi look. Dick was playing quietly with his Superman doll, which was apparently making friends with the Batman doll. 

“Have we figured out how to send the imposter Drake back to his time?” Damian asked his Tim. After putting the final touches to his eyeliner, Other-Tim looked up.

“Almost,” Other-Tim grunted, smudging his eyeliner for a smoky-eye look. “I’ve used my wormhole creator,” he pointed to a sinister looking machine in the corner that was chugging away, “to look for Imposter Tim’s universe. Once it detects a Tim-less universe, it’ll open up a portal. It should take roughly two hours”

“Clever,” Jason said. “Why are you using your glitter eyeliner?”

“Kon and I have a date,” Other-Tim grunted. “We’re going to his penthouse to be nasty.”

“Penthouse?” Tim asked. “I’m assuming that your Kon was raised by Lex.”

“And yours was raised by Clark?” Other-Tim asked, then whistled lowly. “Damn. What was that like?”

“He’s perfect,” Tim sighed. “He’s my farmboy dreamboat, getting up before dawn to milk the cows and gather the harvest, brush the horses, and then he comes home after a long, hot, day at work and takes me roughly as I feed him pie-”

“STOP,” Damian roared, his hands over Dick’s ears. 

Tim had the decency to look shamefaced, but only for a second before he and his counterpart started daydreaming again. Other-Tim sighed. “An interesting thought - farmboy roleplay,” he said lowly. “Thanks for the idea. I’ll be going then, I’ll see you rubes on patrol tonight-”

“You’re going now?” Tim asked, surprised. “But I won’t see you before I go back to my universe.”

“You’ll have more time to spend with the family,” Other-Tim shrugged. “I’m sure that they want to get to know you.”

“W-what about you?” Tim asked quietly.

Other-Tim looked at him quizzically. “They see me all the time. I’m sure that they'd rather spend time with you.”

Tim was gobsmacked. Was that how little his counterpart thought of himself? Was this the person he would have been if he had not addressed his insecurities? “Dude,” Tim said sternly, “they’re  _ your  _ family. Of course they want you around.”

“How could you think that we’d rather not have you around?” Jason asked his Tim quietly. “You’re our brother, man.” 

Damian swung around from where he had been working. “Drake!” He barked. “Your stupidity is hurting Todd’s squishy heart!”

Other-Tim looked shocked and hesitantly reached out to pat Jason’s arm. “Jay, don’t feel bad. This isn’t a reflection on you.”

“It may as well be, if you think that we don’t love or value you!” Jason cried, hurt.

“Jason,” Other-Tim said, “I know that I’m not the most fun person to be around. I just thought that you guys would like to get to know a different Tim, with less issues and...not...me.”

“But I love  _ my  _ Timmy!” Little Dick cried into his hands, fat tears dribbling down his face. “I don’t want my Timmy to go,” he sobbed. Damian sprung into action, simultaneously picking Dick up, and somehow smacking his Tim around the head at the same time. 

“Hey!” Other-Tim yelped.

“Drake you odious baboon,” Damian gritted out, “how dare you go through life without resolving your abandonment issues. They have now spilled over and affected the younger children!”

“Yeah, because you care soooo much-”

“He does,” Tim interrupted. “Dude, Damians never admit their feelings. They’re like tsunderes - you have to read inbetween the lines. For example, my Damian does things like leaving me a new tissue box on my nightstand during hayfever season, or squeezing lemon over my salad so that I get my daily vitamin C intake. That’s his way of showing that he loves me.”

Other-Tim looked stricken. He turned to Damian. “You… you gave me your black scarves because they were too small. Scarves don’t get small. And you keep refilling my eyeliner with your mom’s organic kohl mixture, because you say the WayneMart stuff is ‘cheap manure’.”

Damian blushed angrily, like a proper tsundere. “I- I- ARGH!” He cried, and ran off, unable to bear being seen as anything but a stern patrician figure. 

Other-Tim watched him go in disbelief. “All this time,” he wondered aloud, “Damian was a huge softie.”

“Damian is not the only softie,” Bruce’s voice came from the top of the stairs. They looked up to see Bruce standing at the entrance to the cave. “I, too, am a softie for my children.”

“Oh no,” Other-Tim groaned, as Bruce walked down. He did his best to squiggle away, but Bruce was too quick, holding his hands. “Tim. I have always loved you, son. And I realize that I have not always been the best father, and that’s on me to improve upon. But don’t you doubt for a second that I would trade you for anyone else - not even this fae version of yourself.”

Other-Tim looked like it would physically hurt him to make eye contact with his father. “Y- you don’t have to-”

“Tim,” Bruce said, running his hands through his son’s hair, “I love you for  _ you _ . If I have to say it every day for it to sink in, then so be it. I love you, son. The thought of losing you again is unbearable.”

Father and son stared at each other, unable to say more. In a daring move, Bruce leaned forward and gave his Tim a tiny forehead kissy. “Ew,” Other-Tim said, but looked pleased. “Thanks, Bruce.”

Bruce smiled and looked victorious. After the little confession, Tim was able to fully enjoy his alternate family. It was still surreal to see a handsome Damian - Tim was too used to his little frog boi. The strangest thing was to see a version of Jason that had never had to die. Of course, his own counterpart had paid that price, and the contrast was striking. Still, this Jason doted on his Tim, holding his brother’s arm, touching his hair, and leaning all over him. 

Wait.

His Jason did all those things too. 

Only, when his Jason leaned on him, it was with the intention to flatten poor, lithe, Timmy like a crepe. 

Baby Dick was the best, Tim thought privately, as he bounced around from brother to father, spreading joy and light. Parenthood was a good look on Damian, Tim decided, as he watched Damian apply kohl to Dick’s eyes, lest the sun damage them. Cass was the same as ever - quiet and slinky, watching over her more idiotic siblings. She still seemed to be drawn to her Tim, as was the case in Tim’s universe. 

All too soon, the wormhole generator pulsed, and a portal started to form. “It looks like the generator found your universe,” Other-Tim said. “I guess this is goodbye, other me.”

“Bye me,” Tim said, sharing a fist bump with his counterpart. “It was good to see you guys. Weird, but good.”

“I… I’m glad that you came,” Other-Tim said hesitantly, offering up a small smile. “I think that it was kind of meant to be, y’know?”

Tim smiled and flopped backwards into the wormhole, knowing that he had made one world a better place. 

***

The portal spat Tim out into his own universe with a complete lack of ceremony, sending Tim sprawling all over Jason. 

“Owie,” Tim whimpered. 

“AGH,” Jason cried, horrified at having Tim’s pale-ass thigh against his stomach. 

Bruce was the first to recover, and dashed over to pick Tim up. “Tim! Are you alright?”

Tim scrambled off of Jason with Bruce’s help, and brushed down his skirt. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Nothing major. I think that our wormhole generator is glitching though, I’ll take a look at it.”

“Oh Timmy!” Dick cried, running up to him and drawing him into a hug. Tim cringed and struggled as he felt his face being pressed into the warm space between Dick’s emotionally heaving pecs. “We were so worried! What happened? Where did you go?”

Tim took a breath to steady himself, but looked down at the glass of water that Damian was holding out for him. “Drake, why do you stare thusly?” Damian asked innocently. 

Tim could not form an answer, and continued staring at his Damian, who had yet to grow into the Grecian God that he had seen. “Oh my god you guys!” Tim yelled. “I went to a reverse universe! Damian was the oldest!”

Gasps greeted this outburst.

“And he was  _ hot _ !” Tim wailed. 

Damian looked confused. “I was warm? What in- oh, I was good looking,” he realized. “Honestly Drake, why is this surprising to you? Both of my parents are objectively good looking. Of course I would grow up to look like them.”

“Yuck, hot Damian,” Jason sympathized with Tim. “It’s unnatural. Damians should always look like little lizards.”

Tim whirled around to point at Jason. “And you! You were gentle! And soft! And wholesome!”

Dick looked confused. “But Timmy, Jason is already wholesome.”

“No you don’t understand,” Tim cried, “this Jason  _ waxed his body hair _ !”

“L- liar!” Jason screeched, falling back, as the rest of the family gasped. “Such veritable lies drop from your lips!”

“It’s true!” Tim defended himself. “And Dick was little! And he had the same relationship with his Damian that Dick and Damian here do! It was sooo weird!”

Damian raised a perfect eyebrow. “But of course I should care for Grayson, this is not unusual, Drake.”

“What was your counterpart like, Tim?” Bruce asked, noting that Tim has glossed over himself. 

Tim paused. “I was… hurting,” Tim said slowly. “In that universe, I was Jason. But with my own issues. It wasn’t a good look.” Next to him, Tim felt Jason sag a bit, and felt his meaty fingers start playing with Tim’s hair. “But! I was still with Kon!” Tim beamed, remembering. “Kon, Bart, and I were that universe’s version of the Outlaws!”

Jason snorted heavily. “Oh my god, no,” he hooted. “You’d be the worst anti-heroes ever.”

Bruce was none too pleased to find out that Kon had once again weaseled his way into their lives in a different universe. Still, he was curious as to what Tim did there. “What was the other universe like, other than reversing your ages?”

Tim whirled around and poked Bruce’s pecs. “You were the weirdest of them all,” Tim marveled, as he kept poking. “You were like, peak soft dad, and were all mushy with baby Dickface-owie,” Tim squealed, as Bruce suddenly flexed his pec and hurt Tim’s tiny finger. “You and Jason bonded over discussing literature and languages,” Tim accused. 

“Anything else?” Bruce grunted. 

“Not really,” Tim hummed. “Nothing too different. Still, I helped them realize the value of family and helped them mend their broken bonds, especially my counterpart.”

“It’s almost as though the wormhole generator knew to send you to a universe where your counterpart was struggling,” Damian mused. “One wonders if your machine has become sentient, Drake.”

Tim peered at the wormhole generator. “Are you alive, Wormy?”

The wormhole generator stayed silent, betraying nothing. Tim shrugged and straightened. “Oh welp, all’s well that ends well. I’ll take a look at it after dinner. I’m hungry now.”

Whole once more, the Waynes left the cave, their spirits high. The cave’s lights dimmed, and eventually went fully dark. The Batcomputer continued to process data in the background, slowly buffering away. 

No one thought to look at the wormhole generator, which too was chugging along with its own algorithms. Scanning thousands upon thousands of universes, the wormhole generator suddenly came to a pause. It beeped.

-Anomaly detected-

After a second of silence, it beeped again, three times in quick succession.

-Commence protocol: D1-U3U-

-Schedule Time: 03/09/2020-

With no one the wiser, the generator went silent.

For now. 


	2. Damian of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two: Tim!Bats with a twist

It was another laconic night in the Batcave. Patrol was over, and only Jason had come out with a little ouchie which was being tended to by Damian, of all people.

“Todd! I cannot see your wound through your mounds of leg hair!” Damian squeaked angrily. “This is inhuman, simply inhuman!”

“Oh my god, it’s right there,” Jason said, pointing at another patch of leg hair. 

“This is an untenable situation!” Damian cried. “Where is the magnifying glass?”

Bruce was content to let the noise fall into the background as he typed up the nightly report. Tim was behind him, floating around like a wisp, putting the weapons away, giving each a little kiss goodnight before stocking them away. Bruce noted with some worry that some of the weapons seemed to hiss or beep back at Tim. 

He should really keep an eye on the boy’s inventions. 

Dick was pacing by the zeta tubes, waiting up for Wally, who had been called away on a mission. Beside him, Terry was also pacing with Dick, looking thoughtful and adorable as he tried to keep balance in his onesie. Their wait was not in vain, as the zeta tubes activated and pooped out Wally in a heap on the floor.

“Wally!” Dick cried happily, helping his husband up. “Terry look, papa’s back! Dami, Wally’s back!”

Bruce took a break from his work to see the little family unit have a snuggle. It did the heart good to see his boys happy and wholesome.

“Hi guys!” Wally beamed. “The mission was a success! We blasted those evil invading wizards to heck! We had some spare time left on Zeltron VI, so I hit up the bazaar. I brought you guys these cool alien things- oh! I also found this stone carving that reminded me of Damian.”

Everyone peered at the little carving that sat in the palm of Wally’s hand. It was a small, rounded, smiling face, which had been somewhat squished. Bruce felt guilty for thinking how it really did look like Damian when he smiled. 

Damian, however, was pleased. “You remembered me? How nice of you, West.” He examined the sculpture and was seemingly happy. “It looks like me - refined and regal.”

Wally smiled and gave Damian the squished little smiling face in a lovely bonding moment between bros-

If it hadn’t been for Jason hooting like an overfed orc in the background. 

“Todd you veritable boor,” Damian seethed, “can you not see that- ECK!” 

And before anyone could blink, Damian was gone, sucked up into the latest wormhole.

***

“Damn,” Tim said quietly, as Dick started to cry for his poor little brother-son, “looks like the ol’ wormhole generator is malfunctioning after all.”

***

“ARGH!” Damian cried in horror and consternation, as he was deposited into an alternate universe. He got up, grumbling, and looked around, taking in his new surroundings. He was in a cozy apartment, with wooden themed decor and copious amounts of blankets and cushions. Something about the aesthetic reminded Damian strongly of...Todd. 

Suddenly, there was a warbling cry, and Damian jumped. He looked into the corner, where there was a tiny crib. Damian waddled over quickly, cursing the fools that lived here for not minding their baby-

“Terrence!” Damian cried, looking down at the baby. 

And there, despite all odds, was Terry, staring up at him through wide, surprised blue eyes. This Terry was around the same age as Damian’s own, perhaps slightly older, and was just as friendly. Terry stumbled up on his feet, gripping the railing of his crib. He studied this newcomer, and sensing something familiar about him, he hazarded a careful, “...Dami?”

Damian burst out laughing, and his signature evil laugh seemed to spark further recognition in the baby, who laughed along with him.

“Terrence my diabolical grape, you have recognized me! BWA HA HA!”

“BA HA HA,” Terry echoed. 

The laughter attracted the other occupants of the house, and Damian looked around as the door opened to see Todd and Grayson looking at him in shock. Dick recovered first, and took a few hesitant steps forward. “Dami? Is that really you?”

Damian beamed and quickly waddled over. “Of course it is I, Grayson, who else possesses these noble features? Certainly not Todd.” Damian looked up at Dick, who was staring at him in awe. This alternate Grayson greatly resembled his own, with the same physique, hair, and kind eyes that were now smiling at Damian. “I should mention that I am here as a result of probable universal displacement,” Damian said. “The wormhole generator in my universe appears to be malfunctioning.” Damian allowed himself to be picked up by Dick and cuddled. It seemed to bring the man some peace. 

“Well, that’s a relief,” Jason huffed. “The alternative would be that our Damian has shrunk by ten years.”

Damian’s eyes bugged out of his face. “Ten years? Then I am...twenty-one in this universe?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, coming forward. He paused in front of Damian and Dick, and then took Damian out of Dick’s arms for a hairy, ticklish hug for himself. Damian found himself being surrounded by heat and hair, and fidgeted. What had happened that Todd would embrace him thusly?

“It is gratifying that you are both here,” Damian said. “Where, then, is my counterpart, and Drake? What about Father and Cain?”

Dick and Jason looked at each other, hurt and pain passing between them. “Dami...it’s not so simple,” Dick sighed.

Damian pouted. “What happened here? Why is our family not together? Surely we do not all live in Todd’s apartment?”

Jason plopped Damian down on the couch and sat down next to him. “There was an accident,” he said quietly. “A horde of dark wizards from Apokolpis, working under Darkseid’s banner, trying to take over multiple planets. We lost a lot of good heroes that day.”

“We managed to save everyone else, but we lost Wally, Dinah, and Kara,” Dick whispered, his voice breaking, even as Damian’s stomach dropped. “We lost so many others, and not even to death. Roy went off the grid after we lost Dinah. Kon didn’t take losing Kara well. He’s become a shell of himself. And Bruce-”

“Bruce is in a coma,” Jason said, and Damian’s world fell apart. “It’s been a year now.”

Damian could not believe it. West was gone? And Harper too? Even the Clone, while still alive, was not with them in any way that mattered. Damian clutched the little stone carving that Wally had got for him, as though it were a lifeline to the man who was not truly his. In his universe, West was safe, and happy, and whole. Harper was _there_ , solid and unspeakably red. The Clone was alive, lusting and plotting to abscond on dates with Drake.

Damian looked at Terry, and then at Dick. “Were you and West…?”

Dick smiled sadly. “It would be our tenth anniversary this month,” he said. “He never got to see Terry past his first birthday.”

Damian looked at Todd. “And Harper?” 

Jason cocked his head. “No. I was an idiot. I never told him how I really felt, how much I loved him. It’s too late now.” At Damian’s glare, Jason clarified, “He’s Green Arrow now. Operates out of Star _fluffing_ City.”

“Oliver took Dinah’s passing badly,” Dick admitted. “He started to go off the rails, became more violent and isolated. I hate to say it, but Roy moving to be with him may have saved Connor from a very sad life.”

“Not that this one is any better,” Jason huffed. “I’d never thought that I wouldn’t see Bruce again. It makes all that beefing and fighting with him so _pointless_ ,” he sighed. “Now he’s just there _sleeping_ , and I can’t say anything to make it right.”

Damian could not begin to digest the pain between his brothers. “And Drake?” Damian asked quietly. 

Dick looked torn. “Timmy’s alright. He- he’s Batman.”

Damian could not stop the snort of unbidden mirth. “Drake!? But Drake is slim, and fae, and constantly lusts after the Clone as they seek to violate their curfew so that the Clone may touch Drake’s mini skirt clad legs!”

Jason burst out laughing. “Thanks for the memory,” he wheezed happily. “God, I’d completely forgotten Tim’s penchant for miniskirts.”

“He doesn’t wear them anymore,” Dick said with a sad smile. “He’s lost himself, become bitter and angry at everyone and everything. He and Kon are still technically together, but they aren’t able to get past their anger at what happened.”

Damian paused and leaned back. He could begin to even grasp the tragedy of this universe. “So where am I then? Why am I not here and helping mind Terry? Am I Drake’s Robin?”

Here, Dick began to cry openly, and Jason patted his shoulder. “Erm. You’re actually not Robin anymore,” he informed Damian. “Before this whole thing went down, you started practicing magic. And you got pretty damn good at it. You actually rank amongst the most powerful mages currently,” Jason said with a wry smile, as Damian bounced happily, making Terry bounce beside him. 

“But Bruce wasn’t keen on it,” Dick said quietly. “He...he became more wary of magic since Clark was-”

Damian’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. “Not Kent too!” Not his favourite farm-husking, cow keeping, casserole feeding uncle!

“No, no, Clark is alright,” Dick hastened to add, “but there was a time that he went up against a magic user and it was pretty touch and go. Clark’s never been fully alright after that, and he retired the mantle of Superman to Kon.”

“Yeah, and Bruce took it badly, and combined with his natural paranoia...well.”

“So what am I now?” Damian asked. 

Dick and Jason shared a meaningful glance at each other before Dick lifted Damian into his lap for a pre-trauma cuddle. “Welp kiddo, you’re now the shiny new leader of the League of Assassins.”

Damian fell out of Dick’s lap and toppled down, eventually rolling to a halt. He lay on the floor on his belly, his little face smushed into Todd’s vile shag carpeting. Eventually, he recovered enough to raise his head. “I am evil!?”

“No, not evil,” Dick said, picking him back up, “just...aggressive.”

“Definitely not evil,” Jason concurred, “as evidenced by the collection of items in the Damian Closet.”

“What is the ‘Damian Closet’?”

Jason walked over to a closet built into the wall and opened it, revealing all manner of baby toys, tiny baby sabers, the finest silk baby thawbs, and multiple six-packs of Lazarus Pit water. “You feel pretty rotten about not being able to help with Terry, so you send all these weird stuff for him. It’s ridiculous, but cute.”

“The Lazarus Pit water has come in handy a few times, though,” Dick admitted. “Ooh, Jay, give me a thawb, Terry wants to wear it. What colour do you want, Terry Berry?”

“Bloo,” Terry said, and immediately proceeded to resemble a blueberry upon wearing his preferred thawb. 

“So I am...a remote uncle?” Damian goggled. “Preposterous.”

“No, you’re pretty hands on,” Jason said. “You bought the flat above us,” he said, pointing at the ceiling. “You’re here quite a bit. But also...not. Seeing as this is Gotham and you and Tim are beefing.”

“To put it mildly,” Dick grumbled. 

“Tim sees your magic as a problem waiting to happen. You don’t. Ergo, you are beefing,” Jason clarified. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I had never thought that I would have to deal with this in my old age,” Jason grumbled. 

Dick tutted. “Little Wing, you’re thirty two.”

Damian looked carefully at Dick’s youthful form. “You are thirty five? You do not look it.”

“Thanks, it’s the positive thinking. It keeps me young!”

“No it’s not, its your ridiculous fluff magic,” Jason snorted. “I benefit from it too, seeing as we live together, and I make it a point to hug Dick once a day. Get that fluff magic on my pores.”

“Jason! Your hugs have an ulterior motive!” Dick gasped. 

“Damn right. Gotta keep this face all smooth and supple.”

Damian allowed the banter to continue and thought about the awful circumstances of this universe. The family was broken, West was gone, Harper was broken, and Drake was a fool. He would have to fix this.

“Surely you have attempted to heal father,” Damian said. Dick and Jason stared at him. 

“Of course we have,” Jason snorted. “Everything in the medical books. Steph is a nurse, she practically lives in Bruce’s room. Whenever we find something that might work, Tim tries it. It’s hard seeing Bruce like that, and Tim has to do it every day,” Jason sighed. “He and Steph are burnt out.”

“Have you tried to heal Father with magic?” Damian asked. “I know that he and Drake are averse to it-”

“Averse doesn’t cut it, kid,” Jason interrupted. “They’re downright crazy against it. After what happened to Clark, they don’t want magic anywhere near Gotham. Hence why our Damian decided to leg it.”

“But it is foolish!” Damian cried. “Surely, the Lazarus Pit or advanced healing majicks would be able to bolster father’s recovery!”

“Maybe, but Tim doesn’t want to risk it. It’s what originally drove a wedge between him and our Dami.”

“Fools! Fools everywhere!” Damian declared. “We must wake father up! His recovery is the key to healing this universe!”

“Okay, but we gotta feed Terry first,” Jason said. “I heard his tiny tummy do a rumble.”

Damian nodded. Of course, they had to have priorities.

***

Tim Drake was not a happy man. He had not been happy in a long time.

The burden of the cowl weighed heavy on him, and not even the heel inserts in his boots could help him stand tall in the face of the tragedy of the Bat. Because Batman was always born of tragedy. 

“Give up, Sionis,” Tim hummed, twirling his bo staff. He watched happily as Black Mask followed the staff with trepidation. “You can end it now, you know. Spare us both the hassle.” Tim saw Black Mask’s hand twitch, and knew that he was going to go for his gun. Fine then. 

Sionis jumped at the tell-tale sound of a saber being unsheathed. Tim frowned, knowing that sound well. From behind Sionis, a tall, dark shadow fell. “I thought that I had made it clear to you, scum,” Damian’s voice rumbled, “Batman is _mine_.”

Tim watched his nemesis - his baby brother - make quick work of turning Black Mask into a whimpering mess. He stared at Damian, now garbed in the green and gold of the League of Assassins, well and truly the Demon King. 

Tim shot out a cable and leapt across the rooftops, knowing that Damian was following. After a few blocks, Tim stopped and drew his staff again, as Damian landed, sabers held aloft. “What ho, Drake,” he said quietly. 

Tim growed. Tried to growl. He could never quite get Bruce’s baritone after nature had blessed him with his sweet tenor voice. Oh, how Kon loved to hear his true voice cry out as he-

Not now, Timmy. Not now. 

“Why are you here?” Tim growled.

Damian looked curiously at him and lowered his ornate black and green mask. “It was you who called me here. I am merely following up.”

“Actually, you’re both noobs, it was me,” Jason said, dropping down in full Red Hood regalia. “Yes! Little Red hacked the Bat-comm and the League-comm to drop you a message!”

“Yes, very good,” Damian huffed, “was there a point to this? I have an actual kingdom to rule, you know.”

“There is a very good reason we called you here,” Nightwing said, popping out of the pipes, and making everyone jump in shock. 

“Stupid twizzler-twit,” Jason grumbled. 

Dick smiled. “Dami? Come on out.” Tim and the elder Damian watched in shock as little Damian wiggled out and landed next to Dick, clad in his old Robin regalia.

“Ah, what ho, family,” Damian said breezily. 

“Universal displacement,” Dick explained, and then bent to give Damian a kissy, as he was utterly lacking in self restraint. 

Tim looked jarred at seeing a more innocent and lovable Damian again. He was so shaken that he almost missed what the boy was saying. 

“It appears that the wormhole generator in my universe is malfunctioning. Of course, I blame this fully on my Drake, lustful pixie that he is, he was probably distracted by thoughts of the Clone while building it. It appears that the machine has gained a will of its own, and routinely takes members of my universe’s family to fix the issues in other universes. Nightwing and Hood have brought me up to speed on the situation here, and it is obvious that you are fools-”

“Hey!”

“-who lack basic common sense. The link to healing this timeline is clearly down to healing father. It is because of his commands left in limbo that we have been torn asunder. I believe that the wormhole generator will not reactivate till the family is reunited. This was the case when my Drake was taken to another universe.”

“There’s nothing to heal,” Tim bit out. “It’s finished. I’m working on Bruce-”

“To little effect!” The older Damian cried. “I keep telling you, I can heal him-”

“He specifically didn’t want to use magic,” Tim snarled. “And frankly, I don’t either. What has it ever done for us? Apart from taking Superman out of commission, Batman down, killing Flash-”

Damian let loose, and to everyone’s shock, slapped Tim. “How dare you bring West up!” He hissed. “How dare- you weren’t there! I was with him when he died! I lost the man who raised me with Grayson! Terrence lost his _father_! You-”

“Stop it!” Dick cried. “Stop it both of you!” They stopped and looked over where Dick was holding a smaller, horrified Damian. “Just...stop,” he pleaded. “It’s done! What does it matter how it happened? He’s gone! We need to focus on healing _us_ now, and we have a chance! Fate has given us _Dami_ , and I have to hope that he’s right!”

Damian - the elder one - immediately slumped and approached Dick. Once a mama’s boy, always a mama’s boy, Jason thought. “Grayson, don’t cry,” he said quietly. “Please, of course we want to fix father.”

Jason glared at Tim - Tim, who had so successfully alienated his family. Tim, who was supposed to be 5 foot 5 inches at most, and slink around with Kon, and giggle like a bunny rabbit. He slung an arm around Tim’s shoulders in a seemingly brotherly manner, pulling Tim into his muscular side. 

“Alright punk, listen up,” Jason said quietly, pinning Tim to himself, struggling to appear chill so as not to alert the others, “I’m done pretending that I’m okay with any of this, alright? We’re going to heal Bruce whether you like it or not, we’re going to be a fucking family again, and we’re going to get those inserts out of your boots.”

Tim squealed as Jason continued to smush him. “Little Bat here has been swayed by our logic and emotion,” Jason announced, “and we’re going to go home!”

Little Damian beamed and clapped his hands. “How wonderful!” 

Jason glared at Tim, who was still stuck in his armpit. “Yeah. Wonderful.”

***

“Oh my god, tiny Damian!” Steph’s greeting squealed through the hallowed chambers of the Batcave.

“Tt. What ho, Brown.” Damian looked around the cave, taking it in. Not much had changed, apart from the weaponry on the walls and the newer iterations of the Batmobile. Damian allowed Casandra to pick him up and give him a snuggle. 

“Dami. Little Dami,” Cass muttered, cuddling him like a teddy bear. She paused and looked at her own Damian, debating the best angle at which to snuggle him. He finally gave in and exposed his side, to which Cass attached herself like a leech. “My Dami.”

“What ho, family,” the elder Damian grunted, but looked glad to see his sister again. “Now, I believe that we were going to heal father.”

Everyone looked towards Tim, who was still being held by Jason. “Jason has a gun pressed to my hip!” He shouted. 

Dick gasped and smacked Jason, who let go of Tim. “Snitch,” Jason hissed. 

Tim somersaulted away and landed daintily next to...Damian. Great. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. “I, for one, am against using magic on Bruce,” he said.

“Blah blah blah no one cares,” Stephanie said succinctly. “I’ve been the one massaging Bruce’s ass in the stasis field everyday so his muscles don’t bunch up, so I say we do it!”

“You have been touching father’s behind?” The elder Damian asked. 

“Yeah. You have to massage the body, even if it’s in stasis. Bruce had taken a lot of injuries before we put him in stasis, and we needed to heal his other injuries before waking him. I’ve been doing the butt, Cass’ been doing his back, and Tim’s been doing his limbs. Alfie tried once, but he’s got arthritis now and he couldn’t get past the first butt layer. Dick and Jason come by once a week and are in charge of giving Bruce baths.”

Jason shuddered at the thought of his literal dad’s bod. Meanwhile Damian looked troubled. “I have been able to do nothing for father.”

“Welp, you’re healing him now!” Steph beamed. “No more butt massages from Steph!”

Seeing Bruce trapped in stasis was jarring for little Damian, who subconsciously drew closer to his family. Tim noticed and gently draped his heavy cape over the boy. Damian looked up, started, but relaxed when he saw that Tim was looking at him with only mild concern.

“If we’re doing this-”

“We are so doing this, I can’t go another day touching Bruce’s ass-”

“-then should little Dames be here?”

Dick smiled at Tim’s natural concern for his brother and was ready to start gushing with emotion, when the adult Damian spoke. “If my counterpart is capable of holding a spell, then I should like his assistance. Have you dabbled in the healing arts, little self?”

“Indeed,” Damian replied. “I have helped heal injuries that Todd has sustained, and have eased pain and anxiety as well. My Drake is especially prone to the latter, and I constantly find myself brewing soothing potions for his troubled mindscape.”

The older Damian’s lips twitched, while his Tim tried hard to project an aura of stability and calmness, to little success. “Wonderful. Tell me, young one, are you capable of holding a spell? I should like your strength to add to the spell, it will only accelerate father’s healing.”

“Certainly, I have done this in the past,” Damian said confidently. 

The older, wiser, and less-amphibious Damian nodded. “Then we shall commence the spell. I shall try to not put too much of a strain on you.”

“Why,” Jason muttered, “does Damian never grow out of talking like a Victorian grandmother?”

“Hush, it’s cute,” Dick hissed. “It lends him gravitas.”

During this exchange, Tim was once again fretting. “Guys, I’m not sure about this. Bruce made his views on magic very clear before he fell into a coma. And Damian did say that he’s not tried this before. What if-?”

Damian looked ready to throw up his hands, but it was little Damian that made it to Tim first. “Drake,” Damian said, scrambling onto Tim’s lap. Tim squeaked and fell off of the chair in shock, where Damian continued to clamber all over him. “Drake, listen to me,” Damian said, taking Tim’s face between his little hands.

“Dami, watch your knee please, it’s on Timmy’s manhood,” Dick called gently.

Damian repositioned himself so that his knee was now against Tim’s pancreas. “Drake, father has been in this in-between state for a year now. How much longer will you let this continue?”

“I don’t want to lose my dad because of something that caused him to be like this in the first place!”

“Drake you pitiable creature, let me explain the concept of The Ancient Magicks to you,” Damian said, reclining on Tim, trapping him. Just to make sure that Tim stayed trapped, Cass rolled over and threw a leg over the pair, so that Tim was pinned to the tiny Damian, belly to belly. 

“Jezebel,” Tim glared at his sister.

“What that,” Cass replied and did not lift her leg. 

Damian made himself comfortable (at the cost of Tim’s esophagus) and continued, “In magick, the spell is dramatically affected by the _intention_ of the caster. For example, I could cast a spell to summon electricity and use it to charge a mobile phone. On the other hand, I could also summon the electricity to charge the carpet with static electricity so that Todd’s hair will look ridiculous when he steps on it. Same spell, different intention.”

“I know that, I’ve done the research,” Tim grumbled.

“Then apply it to this situation,” the older Damian said. “The spell that felled father was an Air elemental spell. It literally attempted to suffocate him by funneling poisoned air into his lungs. I would be using the same spell, but only to funnell the air _out_.”

“Have you done it before?” Stephanie asked.

“No. The spell’s purpose was purely offensive. I would be modifying it greatly. That is why I requested my younger, but still wise self to aid in the process. It will take up a lot of energy.”

“The question now is, do you trust us, Drake?” Damian asked, looking into Tim’s eyes from an inch away.

“I…” Tim looked torn. “I mean, I love you,” he admitted. “You’re my brother. But nothing about magick so far has allowed me to trust it.”

“You do not need to trust the magick, Drake,” Damian explained, “but rather the caster. Magick is wild, it is an untamable force-”

In the background, Dick tried desperately to cover up his little puffs of pink sugar magic exploding out of his skin, fueled by emotion. Seeing the sparkles around Dick, Jason immediately shed his jacket and helmet and rubbed against him, to better get the benefits of Dick’s purifying, healing mist to maintain his smooth, wrinkle-free skin. Dick had never felt so used in his life.

“-and it falls to the caster to control it. Your trust will then be in the wielder of the magick, not the magick itself. So Drake, I ask again, do you trust us?”

Tim looked torn. For a minute, he was not Timothy Drake, or the Batman, but just Timmy, who wanted to be told that things were going to be alright, and that of course he could trust his little lizard brother-

“Timmy,” Cass said, “listen to your heart. Not grey matter. Heart.” 

Of course she was right. Tim nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

***

The Bats fretted quietly as Jason brought Bruce out of his stasis pod. After making sure that his vitals were stable, the Damians started the spell. Slowly but surely, a palpable aura built up around them as the elder Damian focused and reached out to periodically touch Bruce’s chest, before going back to chanting. 

Five minutes in, and Jason elbowed Tim in the rib. How much abuse was he to suffer this day? “Look!” Jason whispered. “Bruce’s heartbeat is picking up! His brain activity is too!”

Suddenly, the bigger Damian stood, and moved his tiny counterpart out of the way. “Give me silence,” he said. “I must now draw out the poison from within father and then immediately burn it. Little self, conjure and sustain a handful of hellfire for me.”

Damian conjured a ball of green flame, and held it out as the older Damian shed his outer robe and began to move in crisp, dance-like motions. With every turn or kick that Damian performed, Bruce would frown or groan a little bit. Damian continued his ritualistic movement, sweat beading above his formidable eyebrows. 

“Oh my god you guys,” Steph whispered, “he’s airbending! Damian’s airbending!”

“What? No he’s-”

“No he is!” Stephanie said excitedly. “Those are exactly the movements from Avatar that little Damian and I used to watch together! Guys! He remembered! I contributed to his magical development!”

“Well technically, Nickelodeon contributed to his magical development,” Jason muttered, but was silenced by Dick. 

As Damian moved, Bruce’s chest began to heave, and a deep blue vaour began to pour out, which Damian channeled into a ball before casting it into the conjured hellfire. Tired from his exertions, Damian nonetheless waddled over to Bruce first. “Father, wake up,” he murmured. “Father, please-”

The rest of the Bats huddled closer and began stroking Bruce’s hair, hands, and face, all gently prodding him awake. 

Stephanie let out a final, uncouth bellow, “BRUCE HOW CAN YOU FORSAKE US THUSLY- oh,” she tapered off abruptly to see Bruce frowning at her, very much awake. 

A collective cheer went up as Bruce gently eased himself up to a sitting position in the pod. “What- I-” He looked at Tim, wearing the cowl, Damian, dressed in the League’s finery, and a smaller, beaming Damian in a Robin suit. Stephanie was, for some reason, dressed as a sexy nurse. 

“What on earth is going on?” Bruce asked.

The only reply he got was the cheerful cries and hugs of his children.

***

Later, the Bats had lugged the adult Damian up into bed, and had bunged Bruce beside him for both of them to recover from the strain. “What ho, father,” Damian murmured as he sipped his tea. 

“Er,” Bruce replied, “what ho. Damian, do you mind explaining what just happened?”

“I would, but I am fatigued,” Damian said. “I believe that my little self can answer you.”

“What ho, Other Father,” Little Damian greeted Bruce, crawling up onto the bed to sit on Bruce's feet. “Fear not, I am here due to universal displacement. My universe’s wormhole generator is malfunctioning.”

“Dami helped to reunite us, Bruce,” Dick said happily. 

“Yes, um, thank you,” Bruce managed, still slightly off-kilter.

“Mention not.”

“Could someone fill me in on what happened? I saw a lot of strange things, like my Damian wearing royal robes, Tim was _tall_ -”

Jason, Tim, Cass and Steph chose that moment to walk into the room, with Tim now appropriately nipple-high on Jason. “Go on, Timbo,” Jason said viciously, “tell your father why you were suddenly tall.”

Tim grumbled. “I was wearing heel inserts in my boots.”

“And how tall were they?”

Tim sighed. “Five inches.”

“Five inches!” Stephanie cawed, as she fell apart laughing. 

Bruce looked at Stephanie, and cleared his throat. Stephanie looked up and tried to sober up. “Whoops, sorry Bruce, didn’t mean to make length jokes about your son in front of you-

“Stephanie-”

“-but it was right there, and I couldn’t let it go-”

“-thank you.”

Everyone goggled. Stephanie goggled. “W-what?”

“Thank you for looking after me and giving me bum massages, and talking to me through my pod,” Bruce said. “Not for insinuating that Tim has a small one. You know better, you’ve walked in on all of us in the changing room at one point or another.

“I could hear, you know. I was still somewhat aware of what was happening. So I know how Tim and Cass and Steph took care of me. Of Dick and Jason coming over and...bathing me.” He paused. “I also know about Tim and Damian.” He looked at Dick sadly. “And Wallace.”

Dick sniffled, but maintained his calm as Jason draped a meaty arm over his shoulders. Bruce held his arms out and Dick waddled over for a hug. Bruce noted with some exasperation that there was glitter on Dick’s clothes that was now getting on him and seeping into his skin. How lovely, he had forgotten about Dick’s ability to become a Disney princess. “Oh!” Dick said, jumping up, “there’s someone who wants to see you Bruce!”

Dick opened the door to reveal Alfred and tiny, toddling Terry, who wobbled in uncertainly. “Hewwo,” Terry greeted the room. 

For a minute, Bruce forgot how to breathe. “Terry,” he whispered hoarsely.

Terry’s eyes lit up in recognition and he smiled. “Gwanpa Bluce!” Terry cried happily, and wiggled over frantically. “You ‘wake!” Terry allowed himself to be lifted into Bruce’s arms and beamed at everyone, flapping his hands. “Look!” Terry called to everyone, pointing at Bruce. “Dami! Dada! Dami! Gwanpa-”

Terry paused as he looked between the two Damians, who were so similar yet so different. “D-dami?” He whimpered, looking at one Damian to the next. “Dami? Dami?” Terry reeled, and called out for support. “Dada! Unca Jay!”

Jason rushed forward and soothed Terry. “What’s wrong, Terrykins? Did the demons surprise you?”

“Ye!”

“Oh no,” Jason cooed, picking Terry up, “you are in shock and will have to be cuddled. What a shame - for everyone else. Jason wins best uncle.”

Bruce snorted as both Damians made noises of affront. “I would like to hear more about Damian’s universal displacement,” he said. 

Dick glittered. “Oh Bruce! Little Dami was the catalyst for saving you and reuniting us! He made us realize the love we had for each other, and brought us together-”

“Someone other than Dick, please,” Bruce sighed. 

“I suppose that I am the best suited to telling you this tale,” Little Damian said. “The wormhole generator of my universe has grown a mind of its own, and chooses people from my universe to heal rifts in other ones. This time, it was I. After hearing that the family was torn asunder due to your miscommunication and paranoia-”

“Excuse me-”

“-about magick, and Drake’s single-minded foolishness about your ‘knowing best’, I knew that to heal the rift, we must bring you back. After all, father, you are the patriarch who holds this family together, silly though you sometimes may be.”

Bruce stared at this tiny Damian, and then looked at his own, who was sitting up and sipping tea elegantly while Aflred fretted about with whether he had enough biscuits. His son had returned to the League due to his pigheadedness about magic and metahuman abilities. He had created a rift between Tim and Damian, and had caused Tim to lose his happiness, sweetness, and innocence-

No.

Kon-El had taken Tim’s innocence.

Once again grumpy, Bruce frowned. He looked at Tim, who was shuffling his feet and looking very shamefaced. “Tim.”

Tim looked up with tears in his eyes. “Bruce, I’m so so-”

“I’m sorry son,” Bruce said gently. “I’m so terribly sorry that my prejudices got in the way of your relationship with your brothers. It was wrong of me to paint all magic and meta-humans with the same brush, even after what happened to-”

“Yoo hoo,” a well-loved voice called. “Anyone home? I got Dick’s call and I’ve brought over some Rhubarb Recovery Pie!” Clark’s voice sang, pronouncing ‘pie’ as ‘pah’, as was his habit. There was a beat and then, “Oh I see you now, I’ll just- oh no,” Clark moaned.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Looks like someone forgot that their x-ray vision allows them to see through walls _and_ clothes,” he sniped. 

Clark walked in shamefacedly. “I’m sorry that I got a peek at some of y’all,” he apologized, setting the pie on the table. He gave Tim a kiss on the top of the head. “Kon’s on the Watchtower, but he’s coming back now, I told him.” Clark looked emotionally at his now awake friend. “Oh Bruce!”

“Hello Clark.”

“You’re awake!”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Clark looked around, beaming. “And everyone has come home! It’s so-” he paused, staring at the double Damians. “Um.”

“Universal displacement,” Bruce said.

“Hm? Oh, that’s nice,” Clark hummed, and patted both Damian’s heads. “I heard that you boys did good. Thank you for saving Bruce. All of you,” Clark said emotionally, and reached for a tissue to dab his eyes, but ended up grabbing Bruce’s blanket instead, staining them with Clark water. “I- I heard that Damian used some cartoon magic?”

“It is not ‘cartoon magic’,” Damian the elder seethed. “It was a self made spell, which may have been inspired by a well-made animation that I was exposed to-”

“Due to me!” Stephanie crowed happily. “Yes! Stephanie Annalise Brown has influenced the greatest mage of the age!”

“Glossing over the ridiculousness of that,” Bruce muttered, “now that our little guest’s purpose in the universe has been fulfilled, how do we go about returning him to his rightful family? I am sure that his family is worried. Heaven knows I would be.”

Everyone looked at Tim, who snapped out of his daydream about Kon returning from the Watchtower and together, releasing the past year’s stress in a torrid, passion-filled night of hardcore-

“What?” Tim asked. 

“Tim, go and turn on the wormhole generator.”

“Oh, right. It’ll take a bit of time to warm up though, fair warning,” Tim hummed, and swanned out. Jason watched Tim leave, and snorted. 

“He’s already moving like himself again, all slippy and slimy in his passion juices for Kon. Bruce, man, you can’t ever make Tim Batman again, the kid was miserable, and he made everyone else miserable.”

“Oh my god, yes,” Stephanie groaned. “He was so anal about the patrol roster, the Watchtower duties, and I’m fairly certain he made Hal Jordan cry once. Bruce, you can’t ever die.”

“My Drake has created a prototype immortality healing serum,” Little Damian said off-handedly. “He used it on me once to save me from death. I’m going to be eleven years old for two years now.”

Everyone looked horrified at Damian’s little truth bomb, and quickly tried to move past it. They spent the rest of the visit bringing Bruce up to speed, watching Damian hiss in his sleep- “Oh my god why does he do that, it’s so creepy!” “Stop it Jaybird, it’s not creepy, it’s just his sinuses!” - and plying little Dami about information about his own universe, which he was glad to provide.

“Grayson and West had Terrence much earlier in my universe,” Damian said. “Terrence is about the same age, but Grayson is just twenty six years of age. Oh, and Todd and Harper are married.” Damian whirled around and pointed at Jason. “Todd!”

“What?” Jason asked, incredulous as to what he could have done to offend the little gremlin.

“Cease your lollygagging and pursue your lover in this universe at once!”

“Kid, I can’t, he’s Green Arrow now, he’s got responsibilities-”

“Then help him give the odious elf costume back to Queen! Harper works best with you and Starfire, not alone! The isolation does nobody any favours!” When Jason looked unconvinced, Damian growled in frustration and began attacking him (crawling all over him and making hissing noises). 

Long used to his baby brother, Jason merely plucked Damian off of him and put him back onto the bed before studying him closely. “You actually think Roy will agree to come back to me.”

“Yes!”

Jason looked ponderously at Damian. “Your Jason and Roy, they’re married?”

“Yes, fool!”

Jason was clearly considering his life choices, and after a minute, shrugged. “I’ll take a shot. What can it hurt?”

“Good, good,” Damian said, like a tiny gremlin, “and take the child.”

Jason barked a laugh. “I don’t think Oliver would go for that. Shared custody, maybe. Or intense babysitting.”

Damian beamed. His family was almost whole, if only…

Leaving the group to talk amongst themselves, Damian squiggled off the bed and over to Dick, who had just returned from taking Terry to the washroom for a quick bathroom break. “Hello Grayson,” Damian greeted him. He looked at Terry, who was adjusting his diaper. “Is Terrence potty-trained already?”

“Oh yes,” Dick smiled. “He was a quick learner. Besides, he wanted to copy everything that his Uncle Jay did, and we used that as inspiration for early potty training. Life is a lot easier.” He looked around at his family, who were amicably chatting with each other. Everyone was home, and happy, as it should be. 

“Grayson,” Damian said quietly, “I have something for you.”

Dick looked down at Damian who was holding his little stone sculpture out. He looked uncharacteristically hesitant. “Just before I was sucked into this universe, my West returned from a mission to Zeltron VI-”

Dick gave a small, aborted gasp. “Z- Zeltron VI? That’s where- that’s the mission that Wally-”

Damian’s eyes grew huge in comprehension. His West had survived the mission that this universe’s West had not. “Grayson- I’m so sorry. I did not know.”

Dick took a minute to compose himself, but ultimately signalled for Damian to continue. “It’s- it’s part of my history now. You were saying?”

Damian took a deep breath. “When my West came back, he gave me something that he had found, as a gift. I thought that it was nice of him.” Damian held out the little stone sculpture of himself. “West said that he had found it on the planet that he had liberated and that it reminded him of me. I wanted you to have it, as something that would remind you of West. I know he wasn’t yours, but still, I think that they both had the same heart.”

Dick picked up the little squashed stone face of a clearly smiling little boy that looked like Damian. He gave a tiny, tearful giggle and wrapped his arms around Damian. “Thank you Dami. I’ll cherish it always - as something that will remind me of Wally and you.”

Jason, who had special adult powers to sense when his big brother needed support, came over and peered at the sculpture. “Well I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “It looks like a happy little lizard.”

“TODD!”

The little squabble was immediately put on hold when Dick looked at his phone. “Guys, Tim’s in the cave, he said that the wormhole generator just opened up a vortex.”

Jason grabbed Damian from where the boy had crawled on top of his head, and held him like a koala. “Well, little Dames,” he said quietly, “I guess that you did everything that you needed to do. You can go home now.”

Damian looked shocked. He glanced at the little stone figurine in Dick’s hand, the apparent key to his return. His mission had only ended when he had made Grayson happy. For his part, Dick was beaming through his tears. “You did it, Dami,” he cooed, and bestowed upon him a tiny kissy. 

“B- but,” Damian stuttered, “I have only brought back father, West is-”

“You can’t save everyone, Dami,” Dick said gently. “But Wally’s not truly dead. People are like ideas, you know? A really good one takes hold in your heart and can last forever. I’ll always have him with me. And now, this,” he said, holding up the last thing Wally had touched. 

Damian did not know what to say to that, and instead allowed Dick to hold him like a baby and carry him down to the cave. He noticed that the whole family was following behind them, smiling at him like he was their hero.

“Goodbye, little self,” Damian bid his tiny counterpart. “Truly, it was fated that you arrived here this day to unite us all. I shall never be able to thank you enough.”

“Yeah,” Tim said, smiling shyly, looking much more like the Tim in Damian’s own universe. “Sometimes, we tend to forget to lean on each other in times of tragedy.” He looked at his Damian, taller and stronger than he had ever thought. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

Damian smiled beautifully. “You won’t, Drake. For if you do, I shall beat you with your own heel inserts until you realize your love for me again.”

“Oh my god.”

Dick put Damian down with a final kiss, before looking meaningfully at Jason. “I don’t get what you want me to do!” Jason cried. “I’m not a telepath, you can’t just glare at me all bug eyed and emotional!”

“Give. Dami. A. Kiss,” Dick gritted out. 

“Oh,” Jason realized, and gave Dami a scratchy, stubbly kissy. “Thanks, Lil’ Dames,” he grunted. “I’ll take your advice on board.”

Damian beamed, and looked back at the family one last time before he was taken back into the void.

***

The void spat Damian out, but gently, into Dick’s waiting arms. “Oh Dami, you’re back!” Dick wailed, holding him. Terry, who had been crying inconsolably since Damian had been transported away, stopped at once and resumed his resting state of happy tomato. 

Bruce looked like he would faint with relief. It was one thing when Tim was transported - he could take care of himself. But Damian was just a boy - his little boy. “Thank god,” he muttered as Dick handed him over, “thank god,” Bruce said, cradling Damian close. Then, “Tim!”

“Yes?” Tim asked.

“Fix the damn wormhole generator!”

Tim looked at the machine and gave it a chastising finger-waggle. “Wormy, have you developed sentience?”

The machine beeped a chirpy affirmative. 

“Oh,” Tim said, mildly shocked, and looked back at his seething family. “Oops. I’ll talk to Wormy about being naughty.”

“As opposed to disconnecting it!?” Jason spluttered. 

“No! Wormy is sentient, and he has rights! Think about the ethics!” Tim cried. 

“You’ve never cared about the ethics of anything before!” Jason railed. 

“But I love Wormy like a son!”

Wormy beeped happily in a series of trills, glad that he was being recognized as a being with rights and a tender heart. Ah! And the Progenitor was protecting him and declaring His love! Wormy was truly blessed this day. 

Jason reached over, fully intent on punching Tim’s tiny ass into a permanent concave structure. Tim ran, squealing in his distress.

Bruce let Damian down, and he wiggled over to pat the wormhole generator. “The machine is not so bad,” Damian said, patting the now purring machine. “He is trying to fix our family for other universes. He sees us as the optimal model, I think.”

Tim, who had run up the giant dinosaur structure’s butt hatch, poked his head out of the dinosaur’s mouth. “Aha! Damian acknowledges Wormy’s pure intentions! That means that Jason can’t punch my ass inwards!” He glared at the butt hatch, where Jason stood waiting. “You heard him!” Tim shrieked. “Go away!”

Jason stood firm, and cracked his knuckles. 

Meanwhile, Dick was bustling around like a chicken with an agenda. “Come on then, everyone get ready for bed! It’s four in the morning now, we can still get a nice four or five hours of sleep before breakfast, and then a nap later, and then maybe a little snack and a bit of-” 

“Dick you loon,” Roy said, gently patting his shoulder, “you’re hysterical. You go to bed first, tuck Terry in.”

“But Dami-”

“I’ll bring him up, don’t worry,” Wally said, amusedly. “Besides, I think Damian’s kipping with us tonight. We’ll move Terry’s crib next to our bed.”

“Yes, good, good,” Dick muttered, as Roy slowly shepherded him to the exit. “Roy,” Dick whinged, “I’m not a sheep to be corralled!”

“Baa,” Roy replied. “Baa.”

Bruce picked Damian up and took him to the upstairs bath, where he drew him a bubble bath using Tim’s lavender scented soap. “Really father,” Damian said as Bruce dunked him into the tub, “I do not have need for the obnoxious soap. I am not a child.”

“Lavender is soothing,” Bruce murmured, and Wally walked in to put Terry into the tub as well. 

Damian swam over and held Terry up. “What ho, Terrence.”

“Wa ‘o,” Terry bubbled sleepily, the lavender scents already buffeting him to sleep. 

“Alas, you have fallen prey to the obnoxious soap,” Damian grinned, as he piled bubbles on top of Terry’s head. After a while, Bruce handed Damian a towel and towelled Terry dry himself, taking care not to wake the now sleeping baby. Wally was outside, and he happily snagged both children and went off, while Bruce took a blanket down to the cave, where Tim had fallen asleep in the dinosaur’s mouth. 

Wally walked into his and Dick’s bedroom, where Dick was waiting up. He smiled at his husband and took Damian, as Wally put Terry to bed. Slowly, in the safety of his big brother’s arms, Damian fell into a grumbly sleep. Dick and Wally looked at each other and smiled. “Having kids was the best decision I have ever made,” Wally declared, “just short of marrying you.”

Dick giggled. “Goodnight, Wally.”

“Nighty-night Dick.”

***

When Dick awoke the next morning, it was to the slightly surreal image of Damian holding Wally like an angry little koala. He was frowning in his sleep, his little fingers holding tight over Wally’s bicep. Wally, for his part, had thrown an arm over Damian sometime during the night, presumably so as not to roll over and squish him. It was adorable, and Dick took a picture before getting Terry up to be freshly diapered. 

After coming back, Dick found Wally awake, turning around slowly so as not to wake Damian. When he had the boy balanced on his own belly, Wally sat up carefully and grinned victoriously, one arm still around Damian, holding him in place. 

Dick smiled and peppered his hubby with tiny kisses before letting Terry do the same. “Good morning, Wally-bean.”

“Morning, Dicky,” Wally grinned, and looked down at Damian. “My arm is numb. Has Damian been sleeping on it all night?”

“Pretty much,” Dick confirmed, stroking Damian’s hair. “I wonder what he saw in that other universe.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” Wally muttered. “It’s not like him to cling to me - I’m the cool dad, the idol. He usually clings to you.”

Dick had to smother a laugh at Wally’s description of himself. “I think he’ll tell us when he’s ready,” Dick said. Damian chose that moment to wake up, like a grumbly baby bear. 

“Good morn,” Damian murmured, his manners impeccable. 

“Good morning,” Wally grinned. Damian looked up in confusion, and saw that he was reclined all over Wally. After a second of contemplation, he thunked his tiny head back onto Wally’s chest. 

“Tired, Dami?” Dick asked gently.

“Somewhat. I was required to hold a lengthy spell in the other universe. I am glad to say that my efforts paid off though. The family is whole once more.” Suddenly Damian shot up, looking happy. “I saw myself as an adult! I was handsome!”

“Of course you were Dames.”

“This is a relief,” Damian said. “I have long been insecure about my nose and general face - Mother had always said that she had left me in my test tube too long as a fetus, and my face had squished against the glass.”

“Oh no,” Wally groaned, as Damian’s horrific infancy and childhood made itself known again. 

“You’ll always be handsome, Dami,” Dick said. “Your natural goodness shines through and makes you glow.”

“If this is true, then why does Todd look as he does?”

“I don’t know if you know this,” Wally said bemusedly, “but Jason’s what most people consider to be ‘classically handsome’.”

“Bah, what rot,” Damian grumbled. “I have never held the opinions of the general public in high esteem, and am now proven correct.”

Dick gave his little family a cuddle before drawing the curtains open, allowing the dim sunlight of Gotham to filter in, illuminating the room. It was a new day, and they would greet it together.


	3. Jason and the Argo-Nots

Another day, another report to log. 

Jason grumbled as he sat at the Batcomputer, inputting the details of that night’s raid on Black Mask’s hideout. It had gone as per usual - stake out, determine goods being moved, find entry points, secure exit routes, and then beat the crap out of the baddie. All in a night’s work for Jason and the Pussycats, as Jason privately thought of his band of siblings. 

As he got to the juicy part of the report, Jason smiled. He flexed his fingers and typed,

_ “02:00 AM - Red Robin, in his lady of the night disguise, distracts Black Mask’s henchmen by pretending to break his stiletto heel. Batman seethes dadfully. The henchmen converge on Red Robin, seeking to ‘help’ the pretty petal, and as they approach, Red Robin squeals like a piggy and tasers the lot of them. Batman swings in and picks up his favourite member of the family. _

_ Simultaneously, Black Bat and Red Hood have broken into the warehouse and contaminated the drug stock and rendered it unusable. Nightwing is battling Black Mask, who is distracted by his tremendous booty. Robin finishes the job with a concussive hit to the back of the head.” _

“Jaybird, why do you write your reports like novels?” Dick asked from behind him. He peers at Jason’s writing. “And I do not have a ‘tremendous booty’, my bum is normal sized!”

“It is so not,” Jason snorted. “Doesn’t it hurt to tell a lie of such huge proportions, Dick? Does your conscience not twinge with the pain of telling an untruth?”

Dick pinched Jason’s ear as he continued to read. “Also, Timmy is not Bruce’s favourite. Bruce doesn’t have favourites.”

“He totally does!” Jason cried disbelievingly, “Bruce is always after Tim, trying to keep him home and ‘pure’, far away from Kon.”

“He did that to me as well,” Dick said, “when I first started dating Barbara, she had to hack the security system to get me out of the east wing of the manor where Bruce had me locked up. The only reason he didn’t get to Roy was because you were already engaged.”

“Tim’s engaged to Kon.”

“Yes, but Tim is built like a rosebud.”

“Well, what about Cass?”

“Bruce secretly loves Steph,” Dick smiled. “I don’t think he minds when it’s someone Bat-related or Bat-adjacent.”

Brooding on Bruce’s eccentricities, the brothers giggled more until Tim flounced in, settling beside them like a butterfly on a sprig of lavender. Damian followed close behind, dressed in his long nightgown, ready for bed. “Father sent us to fetch the two of you,” Damian said, straightening his little nightcap. Every time Damian wore his little Ebeneezer Scrooge nightgown, Jason rejoiced. There were just so many jokes to be made. Damian didn’t even realize that he was being amazingly cute. 

He would have hated it.

“Dames, why do you wear that nightgown?” Jason asked.

Damian looked down, smoothing the front of the pinstriped gown. “It provides excellent aeration. Western societal norms are odd in that men are forced to wear trousers or shorts at all times during the day. I think it is absurd. Surely, given our anatomy, ladies would be the ones better suited to trousers.”

“Exactly why I like to wear skirts,” Tim said smugly. 

Jason reached over to pinch Tim’s exposed thigh, eliciting an affronted squeal. “No it’s not you little pixie, it's because it gives Kon easy access to your legs.”

“Lies and slander!” Tim cried. “I shan’t stand for this anymore - I will tell Bruce!”

“He’ll probably thank me,” Jason muttered. He paused and looked over at Dick, who was readjusting Damian’s little nightcap. “Alright, let’s wrap this up so that I can go to be-”

As it turned out, Jason was not going to sleep for a while yet, as the wormhole generator came to life and sucked him away, like a particularly thick cut noodle.

***

Jason soon proceeded to eat dirt as he was spat out in the middle of what appeared to be a field. “Stupid sentient wormhole generator,” Jason grumbled unhappily. “Stupid Tim and his robot rights campaign.” Jason stood up and dusted himself off, and took in his surroundings. He was inside of what appeared to be a greenhouse, surrounded by various exotic plants. “Cool beans,” Jason muttered, looking at some beans.

“Thanks,” a light, floaty, familiar voice tittered. 

Jason swung around, his guns already pointing at the threat, only to gape in horror at Tim - or what was once Tim. This Tim Drake had skin tinged with green, had flowers blooming in his hair, and wore a long, leafy skirt that allowed his leg to poke out daringly. He was sat atop a throne of twisting, pulsating vines, which were slowly inching themselves towards Jason. 

“Heyo,” Tim said. “Who’re you?”

“I- I’m-” Jason stuttered, before recovering his wits, “you’re Poison Ivy!”

Tim looked confused. “No. Dr. Isley was my mentor. I’m Nightshade.” Tim reached out, and a creeped crawled over to tickle Jason’s ankle. 

“Gah!” Jason cried, jumping back, “stupid Tim!”

Tim paused and quickly rescinded his creeper. “How did you know my name?” He asked, with a frown. 

Jason sighed, and removed his helmet. “Tim,” he said gently, “you’re not going to believe this.”

“Try me, bucket head.”

Jason snorted. “I’m your brother.”

Tim fell off of his little throne with a squeak. Jason averted his eyes as Tim’s skirt flew haphazardly around him. “Okay, you win,” Tim grumbled, clambering to his feet. “How exactly are you my brother? You’re definitely older than me, and I was an only child.”

Jason grimaced. “It’s a long story.”

***

“Sooo,” Tim said, fiddling with a flower, “you’re from another universe, and in your universe, we’re working with Batman?”

“Yup.”

“And we’re like, four brothers and a sister?”

“Yeah, with some other Bat-adjacents.”

“Coolio. And Batman’s my  _ dad _ ?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, that’s wild,” Tim whistled. “Batman’s supposed to be my enemy here,” he said. “But not really, he’s more like, sad dad. He knows who I am, see. And I’m the only other person who knows his secret identity ‘cause I figured it out when I was a kid.”

“How did you come to be with Poison Ivy though?” Jason asked.

Tim sighed. “It was an accident, really. I was following Batman around Gotham when I was a kid, and I got cornered by a gang. They tried to steal my camera which had pictures of Batman, so I had to run. It had too much incriminating information on it. Ivy found me running and picked me up. After that, I just...stayed with her. They never really missed me at home anyway.”

Jason gulped, holding his emotions in check. He couldn’t imagine a Tim that was so emotionally displaced and lost that he saw a villainess as a better option than his home. This could have so easily been his Tim, if it hadn’t been for sheer coincidence. 

“Is there a Robin in this universe?” Jason asked. Please let Dick be here, let there be a Dick in this universe-

“That’s his sidekick, you said?” Tim asked. “Yes. He recently started working with Batman. Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne’s son. He’s vicious, but generally an okay kid ”

“There were lots of Robins in my universe,” Jason said. “I was a Robin, and so were you. The current Robin is our baby brother Damian. The first one was named Dick Grayson.”

Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you talking about Stray?”

“W-what?”

Tim smiled. “I know Dick Grayson, he’s my bro. In this universe, he’s called Stray. He’s the protege of Catwoman. Robin is really partial to him - he has a side hustle with Stray. They sneak off and rehabilitate hurt and abandoned kittens. I think Stray’s working up to stealing the kid away from Batman. So far, I’d say it’s working. Batman’s kind of a doof.”

Jason had to sit down as the news hit him. Dick was  _ here _ , he was  _ alive _ ! But he was a rogue…

“Is he...y’know...evil?”

Tim cocked his head questioningly. “Evil? No. That’s such an abstract concept. No one is really evil, are they? We’re just the products of our circumstances.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yuh huh,” Tim continued, noting Jason’s disbelief. “I’m not evil, y’know. I’m just doing what needs to be done - allowing nature to reclaim its lands. Without Timmy, Gotham would be a concrete pit. The quality of life here would dwindle to nothing. It’s my work and my ‘attacks’ that allow nature to flourish here again - besides, the kids are always glad whenever I create a new nature park. I mean, so what if I took down another shopping mall?”

Jason stared at the little tree hugging Timmy in disbelief. How little had it taken for his brother to apply his brainpower to something that went so against Batman’s code?

“I notice that you haven’t asked about yourself,” Tim hummed. 

“What about me?”

“You have to have a counterpart here, don’t you?” Tim smiled knowingly. “I’m surprised that you haven’t asked about that.”

Jason peered at the boy in front of him. “You know,” he surmised.

“I can guess,” Tim smirked. “I can’t be sure. You still have your domino mask on. Also, you have a bit of stubble going on, and if I’m right about you, your counterpart is clean shaven.”

Jason gasped. Clean shaven? But his stubble was his pride and joy! The continuation of his hairy body upon his visage that acted as a prickly barrier to deter Dick’s fluffy kissies!

Tim patted Jason’s hand sympathetically. “All’s not lost, skunk-hair. If I’m right about this, then you’ll be glad to know that your counterpart is someone who I truly love and respect. You could even say that we’re...bros.”

Jason sniffed a surreptitious tear back and nodded. “Right.”

“Do you want to see Dick? If we can get everyone together, we should be able to piece together what to do to get you back to your own universe.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, and then stood. “Yeah, you’re right. There’s no point in moping.” He sighed heavily, then slapped his bountiful thighs and stood. “Let’s go see Dick.”

***

Dick Grayson-Kyle opened the door to his luxurious penthouse suite with little ado once he had verified that it was just little Timmy who had come to see him. “Hello Timmy,” Dick purred happily, “who’s your friend?”

“I think we ought to find out together,” Tim said, grinning sharply. “I have a very good hunch though.”

“Oh?” Dick asked, slinking over to Jason. “Take of your helmet then, stranger.” Jason obliged, as Dick frowned. “And your domino mask, no need to be shy. We’re all guys here.”

“Not so, Tim is a pixie,” Jason muttered, startling Dick into a full bellied laugh, so unlike the little feline titter that he usually employed. “D’you have coconut oil? It’s the only thing that works to remove the adhesive.”

Dick padded out and soon returned with a jar of the good stuff. Jason used a glob and then peeled off his mask. 

Tim beamed victoriously. “Well, well, well. Jason Todd, in the flesh.”

“No way,” Dick gaped, prodding Jason’s muscles. “Jason?”

“I gather that I am known to ye criminal elements in this universe, then?” Jason grunted. It was not so out of the realm of possibilities. After all, who knew how his life would have turned out if Bruce had not found him?

“Oh yeah, you’re real special to us,” Tim sniggered. He turned to Dick to fill him in on the universal displacement. “So it turns out that this Jason’s family is undergoing universal displacement. The only way that they get back to their respective universes is when they fix an issue in this one.”

“I see,” Dick said. “What is the nature of the problem, then?”

“Familial,” Jason said. He looked at this version of his big brother, so similar yet so notably different. This Dick was all angles and sharp edges, and there was a strange tension in how he held his body - as though he were going to leap or pounce at a moment’s notice. Even his smile was different - it had a sharper, almost crueler edge to it. “The problem is always to do with my family. In my world, we- you, Tim, and I - we’re brothers.”

Dick’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Brothers?” He said quietly. He looked at Tim, who made ridiculous Bambi eyes at him. Dick smiled. “I can’t say I haven’t felt that way.” He reached over and scratched Tim under the chin, making the boy purr happily. 

“Ah! If only it were my soft, yet sinister lover Kon who was scratching me thusly!” Tim cried. Dick withdrew his hand immediately and sanitized it. 

“The hell, you’re with Kon in this universe too?” Jason asked.

Tim looked delighted that his bond with Kon transcended the bonds of the space-time continuum. “Of course! My Kon works hand in hand with me to topple the power structures that hold the corrupt concrete jungles together! He is devious and delicious, working the system from within!”

“Alexander Kon-El Luthor,” Dick clarified. “He’s the clone of Superman who went rogue and fell for Timmy. He’s also Luthor’s son and his protege.”

Jason whistled under his breath. He did not want to contemplate the scale of the battles between Kon and Clark. 

“Shall we go and see your counterpart then?” Dick asked. “Oh, he’ll be surprised.”

“He might even  _ curse _ ,” Tim said, clapping his slender hands rapidly.

Jason followed his not-brothers out, wondering what exactly this world had in store for him.

***

After sailing across Gotham’s familiar landscape, Jason, Dick, and Tim alighted in front of a church. “Come on in,” Tim said, pulling open the grand doors.

Jason dithered, unsure. What was his counterpart doing in a place like this? In his world, Dick was the religious one, having been raised by his parents to pray and keep faith. Jason had lost what little belief he had had at a fairly young age. Still, Jason girdled himself and stepped inside the church.

It might have been a grand old place once, Jason thought to himself. The high ceilings and the ornate stained glass windows harkened back to a time that spoke of splendour and grandeur. Now, in the light of the moon, the church looked like most of Gotham - forbidding and vaguely menacing. 

“Yoo hoo,” Dick called, “anyone home?”

From the pulpit, a man rose from a kneeling position, and turned. Jason had to bite back a scream, seeing himself in a cassock and a white collar. Dick and Tim bounced forwards to harrass the man, who took their loving inquisition with good grace. 

“Hello little flower,” the priest said quietly, smiling at Tim, who tittered happily. “Do you remember what we agreed about for church?”

“Dress modestly,” Tim recalled, and gathered some vines to cover his shoulders. Jason - Father Todd - nodded approvingly. 

“Thank you, Tim.” He then turned to look at Dick, a smile jumping unbidden to his lips. “Hello Dick.”

“Hi,” Dick beamed, and bounced over, scratching his fingers through the Father’s hair. “Soft,” he murmured approvingly.

“It ought to be, with the amount of Garnier Fructis Moisture Lock that you keep leaving in my bathroom.”

“You deserve to have nice things, Father Jay,” Dick teased. “Just because you’re a man of the cloth doesn’t mean that you have to forgo having nice hair and smooth skin.”

“It still irks me that you got me into waxing,” Father Todd hummed. “But I enjoy the sluggy feeling of my legs at night.”

Jason - the stranger of the group - gasped. Father Todd looked up at him questioningly. “You disagree, I take it.”

Jason removed his helmet and his domino mask. “Too right I do!”

If Father Todd had been surprised to see himself, he did not show it, apart from a quirked eyebrow. “What manner of demonry is this?”

“Universal displacement,” Tim sang. “This is a Jason from another universe. He can only return to his world when he fixes something with his family in this world.”

“His family being…?”

“Us,” Dick said. “In Jason’s world, we’re brothers, you, Tim, and I! Isn’t that lovely? We’re a proper family, somewhere!”

Father Todd smiled at Dick’s exuberance. “I don’t need ties of blood to tell me who my family is,” he said. Seeing Jason’s confusion, Father Todd explained, “I was quite the rogue myself, back in the day. It took near death for me to see the error of my ways. I joined the church, and for a while, things were good. Then one day, there was an explosion.

“It was the Joker. He had attached Gotham General Hospital next door, and the shockwave caused our ceiling to collapse. I was giving a sermon-” Father Todd paused, pursing his lips at the memory of the chaos of that day. “I survived because of Tim. He was there that day.”

“I was stealing something across the street,” Timm supplied. 

“Yes. He saw the roof of the church collapsing, and used his vines to provide support. It- he saved a lot of people that day.” Father Todd sighed heavily. “But we had casualties. The homeless that the church helped, some of our parishioners. The- the orphanage attached to the church. Dick - he came as Stray. Batman too. But Dick sat up with me, helping me clean the bodies. When it came time for the funerals, we suddenly had funds.”

“They were just little kids,” Dick said quietly. “They were orphans - they had no one to care for them, no one to mourn them. I thought that someone ought to. After all, I had stayed in that orphanage for a time. I- I owed it to them.”

“There wasn’t a grave that was without flowers at the wake,” Father Todd said, looking at Tim, who blushed. “It made me see people in a new light. Everyone - not just the regular folk. Even these guys.”

“We bonded,” Dick chirped happily. “Jason kept having us over, offering to talk to us, and he wasn’t pushy, not once. We just sit around, drinking sparkling water.”

“They give me updates on the street kids,” Father Todd said, “so I can take them in. I’d rather they have food and a roof over their heads, even if they do leave in the morning. Some opt to stay.” He smiled. “It makes me happy, when they trust me like that. Trust us,” he added, nodding at Dick and Tim, the latter of whom blushed so hard that he fell off of the pew with a squeak. 

Father Todd sighed and helped his tiny pal up. “But how can I help you, Jason?”

Jason struggled to find words to speak to his more sedate counterpart. “I- there has to be something wrong,” he said, and immediately flinched. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just - in my world, my father is Batman. My brothers are these two,” he said pointing at Dick and Tim, “and Damian, the current Robin. I have a sister too, Cass. Usually in these displacement cases, there is something funky going on within our family.”

“Ah,” Father Todd said knowingly. “I believe that I may know what you are talking about.”

Dick looked immediately concerned. “Jay, is something wrong?”

Father Todd wordlessly went to a confessional and opened the door. “You can come out now,” he said. “You’ve heard everything, it’s safe.”

There was a brief shuffling, and from within the confessional emerged Damian Wayne, wearing an oversized priest’s cassock. He was exactly the same as Jason’s own baby brother, apart from the bare feet and red rimmed eyes, as well as the slightly red tip of his mushroom nose. 

“What ho,” Damian said tiredly, his voice congested. Jason realized with a jolt that he had been crying. 

Dick was the first to react, his maternal bosoms heaving lovingly as he quickly closed the distance between them. “Damian!” He cried. “What happened? You’re supposed to be-” he stopped short, and looked up at Father Todd. “Close the door. We can’t have anyone in here.”

Father Todd nodded and did as bid, before returning to Damian, who by this time had moved to sit against Dick’s hip. “I am fine, Stray, truly,” he mumbled. 

“Lying is a sin,” Father Todd hummed. 

Damian attempted to look aloof and sour, and then-

-burst into tears.

Ten minutes later, when they had managed to calm Damian down, Dick tried again. “Dami- Robin,” he pleaded, “what happened? You’re supposed to be on patrol now.”

Damian looked upset. “I- I was following a lead. The Joker was supposed to be planning another rampage, this time in the fashion district. I traced his whereabouts to a warehouse, but- but it was a trap. He managed to ambush me.

“He had me in a net, and there was a bomb set to go off beneath me.” Jason stilled, reliving the memories of his worst nightmare. “But I was carrying acid,” Damian continued. “I managed to melt through my bindings and the net, and we did battle. I won,” he said, grimacing. “There was only one minute left for the bomb to go off- so I-” Damian choked, “I ran. I left Joker behind.”

Tim clapped a hand to his mouth. “Damian-”

“He’s dead,” Damian whispered, tears springing to his eyes. “And Fath- Batman knows that it was I who caused it, he knew that I was tracking the cad. And now he will hold me responsible and never want to see me again!” Damian wailed, and threw himself into Dick’s lap.

“So you came here?” Tim asked.

Damian continued to sob. “I- I knew that F-father Todd would be discreet. He is friends with you and he is always n-nice,” Damian sniffed. “He always has the stale crackers and the grape juice and is kind to everyone.”

“Please do not refer to the body of Christ as ‘stale crackers’,” Father Todd said tiredly. “But to pick up where Damian left off, when he came here, his uniform was rather tattered by this point, so I threw it into the furnace. It made for a very toasty fire. I then offered him a change of clothes and a bath. ”

“The Father has the most excellent lavender soap,” Damian piped up. 

“It’s Dick’s Christmas Present to me,” Father Todd groaned. “Dick, you have to stop, man. The other brothers are making fun of me and calling me Father Jasmine.”

“But it makes you feel good, doesn’t it?” Dick defeated his flowery preferences. “You gotta have self care, Jay!”

“The Lord’s prayers care for not only my skin, but for my soul also.”

“Prayers don’t cleanse your pores!”

“They fill me with positivity and decrease my cortisol levels,” Father Todd replied. Dick pouted but allowed Father Todd to continue. “We are now deliberating on what to do.”

“Looks like we found your problem,” Tim muttered to Jason. 

Damian peered at Jason. “You said that I am your brother - and therefore Father Todd’s brother - in a different universe.”

“Er. Yeah,” Jason said.

“And Grayson and Drake are my brothers?”

“Yup.”

“To be fair, Dick’s like your brother already,” Tim said kindly. “Your dad’s been banging his mom for years now.”

Damian gagged and glared at Tim, who looked unrepentant. “Still,” he said, “it is a nice thought. Father would take you all in a heartbeat.”

“What a lovely thought,” Father Todd murmured, “but my stomach rebels at being part of the bourgeoisies.”

Jason gasped and surged forward to chest-bump his counterpart, who gamely bumped him back. Damian groaned and rolled his eyes. “Did you two forget that I am a part of the bourgeoisies?”

“Nah, you’re not, you’re just uppity,” Jason grinned. 

Damian inflated with anger, but quickly deflated, like a balloon with a puncture. “Oh woe! Todd is correct, for I may no longer be part of my father's family! He will consider me a criminal and an outcast and disown me!” Damian wailed his little heart out as Dick wailed with him, leaving Tim to wrap them both in his vines in a very leafy hug.

“Oh dear,” Father Todd mumbled, and set about securing crackers and juice boxes that he kept for the children. “Here, child, drink this and be nourished, amen.”

“That is not a prayer,” Damian hiccuped through his sobs.

“Stopped you from crying though,” Father Todd replied evenly. 

Damian continued to sip his juice and allow Tim to bloom tiny hydrangeas into his hair, secretly loving the soft feeling of the petals and the gentle fragrance. “What am I to do now?” He asked quietly.

“We’ll go and find Batman,” Jason said decisively. “I’m sure that he’s going crazy looking for you.”

“F-father is looking for me?” Damian asked, his voice small and scared.

“Dami, he’s going to be so worried about you,” Dick clarified. “He’s your dad, he loves you.”

“B-but-”

“Listen, the only sizeable butt here is Dick’s,” Jason declared, to Dick’s affronted squeak. 

“Defend me!” Dick squealed to Father Todd, who shrugged.

“I cannot deny the Lord’s work,” he said simply. 

Dick pouted as Damian and Tim cackled. At least Dami was feeling better. “Alright. We’ll get Batman, I do think that we should have him here, as opposed to going to him though. It’d be better if we need him to leave.”

“In case Father seeks to punish me?” Damian gulped. “He will see my actions as criminal.”

“Then we knock him out and take you back,” Jason said decisively. 

“Verily, you can live here in disguise as a small priest,” Father Todd offered.

“Dami, you’ll just live with me,” Dick said, eager to embrace motherhood. “Damian’s not Catholic, Father Todd.”

“Well neither is Tim, and that doesn’t stop him from coming here every night to hang out with me and Jesus,” Father Todd pointed out. “Damian, you are welcome to stay with me as well, if you would like.”

“You can stay with me,” Tim whispered into Damian’s tiny ear. “I have sentient plants.”

“Ooh,” Damian said, clearly interested.

“I have cats,” Dick said, causing Damian to sidle towards him. 

“I have communion crackers,” Father Todd said. When the others just stared at him, he pouted. “Also juice boxes!”

Damian smiled, his first true smile since he had shown up. It lifted Jason’s heart to know that the boy was so loved, regardless of being on the ‘opposite’ side. 

Now if only they could hear the same thing from Bruce.

***

Jason felt his stomach flip when he saw Bruce - not his Bruce, though - enter the church warily. When he saw Stray and Nightshade, he cocked his head to the side curiously. “Dick, Tim,” he greeted them evenly.

Tim whinged like a little piglet. “My name is Nightshade! It’s dark and evil and foreboding!”

“I delivered you when you were a baby, in the middle of a packed boardroom because your mother dilated in a nanosecond. You will always be that little pink blob-creature to me.” Bruce turned to Dick. “And you,” he seethed, “are in so much trouble.”

Dick squeaked resolutely. “Am not!”

“Yes you are, you stole the Cursed Emerald of Ermeni on Monday!”

“Prove it.”

Bruce glared. “I. Saw. You.”

“Well I sold it back to the Ermenians and then gave the money to Jay! You can’t claim colonial plunderings!”

Father Todd sighed, a long, exasperated breath. “You gave the orphanage stolen proceeds?”

“It doesn’t count!” Dick whinged, clinging to his arm.

Todd continued to sigh in the same breath, a tremendous feat of lung power, but did not debate Dick. As a history nerd, he Had Knowledge And Opinions about colonialism. 

Batman had apparently finished dealing with Dick and Tim, and returned to the matter at hand. “You said that you had found Robin.”

Jason chose this moment to usher Damian out, still clad in his oversized cassock that was borrowed from Father Todd. Jason was happy to note that Bruce’s posture relaxed, almost imperceptibly. Almost immediately, though, Bruce’s eyes widened as he saw that Damian had removed his domino mask in front of the Father and this new player. 

“What ho, Batman,” Damian said quietly, his hand tensing in Jason’s grip. Jason squeezed back softly, but firmly, in a show of support.

“Damian,” Bruce said, his voice leaking relief. He looked at Jason curiously. “And...Red...Face?” He tried.

Tim fell over and laughed, a full belly laugh that surprised everyone in attendance. 

“Red. Hood,” Jason gritted out. “Don’t worry, ButtMan, I’m a good guy.”

“Er, yes. And, of course, Father...Todd?”

“Indeed,” Father Todd said. Jason chose that time to pop off his helmet to glare at and intimidate Bruce.

“Oh twins,” Bruce said. “And who are you in relation to my son?”

Jason felt the urge to be a troublemaker surge through his veins. “Damian is… my brother!” Right on cue, Dick gasped like the egghead that he was. Tim, unable to resist the call to chaos, gasped as well, despite knowing full well what Jason was talking about. 

Bruce managed to look confused despite the cowl. “I am fairly sure that I would remember fathering another child.” Internally, he was panicking. How did he have a kid who was in his late twenties, when he had only lost his virginity at the age of twenty-two? Alfred was very strict about that kind of thing, he would not have approved of Bruce sowing his seed outside of marriage, hell, showing up with Damian was hard enough, and he had had to survive the resultant guilt trip-

Jason smirked. “Universal displacement, old man - I’m from another world. In my world, you’re my father, and Dickie, Timmy, and Damian are my brothers.”

Bruce looked faintly gobsmacked. He had always fought the irrational feeling of heartache and loss when he had seen Dick Grayson lose his parents, disappear, and then re-emerge at Selina’s side, a villain. And Tim - poor Tim, living in heartwrenching neglect right next door to him, warping his mind to the point that he wanted to wreck the city and society that hurt him. 

Bruce suppressed a shudder and dragged himself back to the situation at hand. “I… I have more kids?”

“And I have siblings!” Damian cheered. “How glorious, I had long suspected that father suffered fertility issues, and that I was a miracle child. Mother said so often enough.”

“I do not have fertility issues,” Bruce refuted. He looked at Damian, his eyes softening. “Damian. What happened tonight?”

Immediately, Damian’s face fell. “I- I didn’t mean to,” he said quietly, a note of desperation in his voice. “Are you angry with me?”

Bruce looked conflicted. “I’m...confused,” he said slowly. “You know that we don’t- I don’t kill. And you aren’t with the League anymore. You swore that you would not kill.”

Damian looked absolutely shattered at Bruce’s inability to see that he had left his life as an assassin behind. “Father, I didn’t kill him,” Damian said tearily, “I didn’t mean to.”

Father Todd held out a little hanky for Damian, who looked questioningly at him. When he did not react, Father Todd bent down and dabbed Damian’s now wet face. Oh, he had been crying, Damian realized. He had not noticed.

Jason had seen enough. “Shut up, man,” he addressed Bruce harshly. “When are you going to believe your kid, huh? He left his whole life behind to be with you. You can’t keep holding his past over his head. It’s no way for a kid to live. 

“So the Joker died. It’s not Damian’s fault when he was just defending himself. Would you honestly prefer that Damian had put himself on the line for that creep’s worthless life? Would you rather that Damian had died for him?”

“No! No,” Bruce said vehemently. “He’s my son!”

“Then act like it!” Jason bit back. “Because you haven’t told him once that you love him, that you were worried, or that you missed him! You’ve accused your literal child of being at fault for saving himself!”

Bruce looked ready to bite back, but could not find the words to do so. How could he justify himself, thinking that his child was at fault for this? It wasn’t even regrettable - the Mayor had announced a parade in celebration when the news broke. 

Gotham was weird. 

“Bruce, man, you don’t want to sacrifice your kid in the name of justice,” Jason said tiredly, “trust me, you don’t. I’ve seen what it did to my dad. You were lucky - your kid lived. I- I didn’t,” he said quietly. Bruce looked abashed and horrified. 

Damian poked Jason’s hand. “Are you of the undead, then?”

“Naw, I was resurrected fully. No urge to eat brains or guts,” Jason said. “I tried it once to make sure. I gave Tim a nibble - he tasted like over-roasted coffee and lust. It was bad. Dick tastes like honey, though,” Jason remarked. “I think it’s his soap.”

“Do you routinely go around biting your siblings?” Tim asked curiously. 

“I was bored.”

“Please, my son is disturbed,” Bruce reminded them all. His tone softened as he walked forward. “Damian,” he said quietly, and reached out. 

Damian leapt into Bruce’s arms joyfully - or tried to, as the overlong priest’s robes he was wearing tripped him up and he flopped over, hitting the floor with a little  _ thunk _ . Bruce smiled and picked him up, cradling his little boy. “Are you alright, Damian? Not hurt?”

“Only my ego, father,” Damian grumbled. 

“No sweetheart, I meant… your feelings. I’m sorry that I thought the worst of you. It was terrible and wrong of me.”

Damian looked mildly stunned. Father was admitting to his shortcomings? “I… I am alright,” Damian hazarded. “I am not sorry for causing Joker’s death though.”

Jason jumped up and turned to his more godly counterpart. “Father, I would like some preemptive absolution of my sins that are immediately forthcoming.”

Father Todd sighed. “What are you going to do?”

Jason smiled impishly and started dancing, and chanting, ‘Ding dong the bitch is dead,’ and was soon joined by Tim and Dick. Father Todd sighed, and waited for the trio to finish their celebration. “Say twenty Hail Mary’s for celebrating the passing of another human, though he was a foe and a cad, and another twenty Hail Mary’s for saying a bad word in church.” He paused. “Oh, and another ten Hail Mary’s for that  _ atrocious  _ dance.” Father Todd then looked at Bruce. “Bruce Wayne.”

“Er. Yes, Father?” Bruce asked unsurely. 

“You have received a great blessing this night,” Father Todd said gently. “I hope that you realize the magnitude of it.”

Bruce held Damian close. “I do, Father.”

Father Todd smiled. “Since you are here, would you like to offer a prayer or confess?”

“I...don’t know how?” Bruce said unsurely. “I’m Jewish?”

Father Todd laughed. “Prayers performed with a pure heart are all held in the same esteem.”

Bruce smiled, and took Damian to the altar. “I’m going to pray that you stay by my side forever, Damian,” he said. “Please pray with me.”

“Of course father,” Damian said, and turned to Tim. “Drake, I do not have a prayer mat. Could I pray on top of a mat of your vines please?”

Tim conjured a bed of leaves, and Damian stretched out, praying in his mother tongue, while Bruce tried to mimic Damian’s fluent, lilting words and movements. He eventually settled for closing his eyes and praying. 

After he was done, Bruce turned to the men standing behind him. He hesitated before speaking, “If things had been different, I would have been able to be your father too,” Bruce said. “But I don’t want you thinking that I don’t care about your wellbeing, either. I just-”

“Mr. Wayne,” Father Todd said, “a piece of legal paper does not a family make. The greatest force in this world is love, and despite your admittedly strange philosophies, you have that in plenty.”

“Also, you could just marry Selina and adopt Dick,” Jason pointed out. Damian jumped up and looked expectantly at Bruce.

“We’ll see,” Bruce muttered, unable to hide a smile. “Tim-” He frowned. “Please stop daydreaming about your horrible boyfriend when I am trying to bond with you.”

Tim snapped out of his daydream and pouted. “Are you gonna adopt me, Bruce?”

“Maybe. If you want me to. I’ve certainly known you long enough. Chased you around Gotham enough, pleading for you to come with me, though you were wont to listen.”

“Okay, but I want to live in the greenhouse.”

“Can you promise that you won’t bring the plants to life?” Bruce asked. 

Tim gasped. “No! Timmy loves his little leafy companions, for they are less plants and more akin to sons!”

“Would not Drake’s presence call Bruce Wayne’s secret identity into question?” Damian asked. “Drake does not exactly have a secret identity. He is green.”

Bruce straightened and looked at Tim soulfully. “Bruce Wayne,” he said, “would be proud to have Tim as his child, no matter what. And if Tim chooses to work with his father’s new environmental protection and sustainability department, well then,” he smiled softly, “it will be his pleasure.”

Tim squealed happily and bounced, his little leafy skirt bouncing along. “And if I want to work with Batman to bring peace with my foliage?”

Bruce looked tearful, his heart glad. Ah, his dadliness was growing, he had acquired two sons in the span of ten minutes! Bruce then looked at Father Todd, who raised an inquiring eyebrow. “It doesn’t feel right to not extend the adoption to you too,” Bruce said.

Father Todd’s other eyebrow joined his already elevated one. “Mr. Wayne, this is not a two for one sale.”

“But Jay!” Dick wailed, draping himself over the beleaguered padre, “you have no one to take care of you!”

“The Lord takes care of me.”

“You have no one to cook for you!”

“The Lord provides me with instant noodles.”

“At least come to lunch, lad,” Bruce said, looking pained. “You can have Sunday lunch with us after Mass.”

Father Todd looked 

Bruce sighed, but this was his way of conveying emotion of any kind. “I will have to propose to Selina. I hope that she does not laugh at me.” Suddenly, the Bat-link on Bruce’s belt chirped. He looked at the live feed of the cave and frowned. “There is a portal in my cave.”

“Well, it looks like my work here is done,” Jason declared, dusting his hands. “M’counterpart,” Jason said, tipping his imaginary hat to Father Todd, “m’Dickface, m’Timbo, m’Demon, and m’dad,” he bid each of them in turn. He strutted up the aisle, swagger set at max, only pausing at the doors. 

“Um,” Jason said. 

“Yes?” Bruce asked. 

“I may need a ride.”

***

The portal spit Jason back into his own universe with little gusto, sending Jason sprawling on the hard, cold floor. 

“Jaybird!” Dick screeched. “You’re back!”

“Heyo,” Jason grumbled, getting to his feet, only to see a topless Bruce clad only in pajama pants coming at him full-tilt. “Oh noes,” Jason said, and attempted to dodge, but was quickly engulfed in Bruce’s warm, itchy hug. 

“Oh Jason,” Bruce sighed into his hair, “thank god, thank god.”

“Noo,” Jason bemoaned his warm, hairy hug. Bruce then passed Jason over to Dick, where he was taken into Dick’s perfectly smooth, slug-like embrace. “Little Wing, we were so worried!” Dick wept. 

“Why though,” Jason grumbled, trying to extricate himself from Dick’s arms, but failed. Jason panicked slightly, having severely underestimated Dick’s grip strength. Eventually, he gave up and allowed Dick to pillow his head on Jason’s chest, his perfect hair spreading over Jason’s shoulder like rivulets of ink. “Tim and Damian were fine. Stands to reason that I would be too.”

Bruce, however, was not willing to accept logic. “I- I can’t stand to lose you again, Jay,” he said heavily. “It would ruin me.”

Dick nodded silently, fat tears spilling from his cheeks.

“Eh,” Tim vocalized, sucking on an ice-pop. “I was alright.”

Jason whirled on Tim, who continued sucking. “Repent, twink!”

“No!”

“Then fall in your ego!” Jason cried, and chased TIm up the dinosaur’s butt-hatch again, where Tim slithered up to the mouth of the great lizard and set up camp. 

Bruce smiled. “Tim is trying to lighten the mood,” he said, “because he doesn’t want to admit that you are his favourite.”

“No! Cass is my favourite!” Tim cried. 

“But apart from Cass? Who is the brother that you go to concoct plans and get validation and food?”

“...Jason,” Tim admitted sourly. “Aw. Timmy loves his hairy brother, mucho revelation.”

“What is wrong with you,” Jason said, but smiled nonetheless. “Nevermind, don’t answer. All the Tims across all Universes are just as weird as you.”

“What was the other universe like, Jay?” Dick asked, as Selina walked in with a tray of midnight snacks, Damian trailing behind her in his nightgown. He reached for a glass, but Selina handed him a tiny mug. 

“No honey, the other ones are eggnog - this is milk for you.”

“Oh, thank you Kyle,” Damian said, sipping his beverage. He looked up with an evil grin, made less evil by his milk moustache. Selina looked amused and wiped it off before handing the eggnog around. “I put rum in it,” she said proudly, “for everyone but Jason, nor resident non-alcohol lad.”

“Aw, thanks,” Jason said. “It’s strange seeing you all motherly with Damian, y’know. Especially since you were Dick’s mom in the other universe.”

Dick squealed and Selina dropped the now thankfully empty tray in shock. “What!”

“Oh yes,” Jason grinned, like the cat that got the cream, “Dickface was Stray, legacy of the notorious Catwoman. Just imagine, Bruce,” Jason said, as Bruce recoiled, “Dickface leaping around Gotham in a skintight catsuit with little cat ears, shaking his little tail, bringing all the middle aged villains to his backyard.”

“No!” 

“Yes!” 

“Stop it,” Dick said, smacking Jason. Then, “Tell us about Tim, then.”

Jason beamed. “Oh my god. Tim had finally achieved his dream of being a flower princess.”

“That’s nice-”

“-as Nightshade, protege of Poison Ivy!”

Tim gasped and fell out of the dinosaur’s mouth, ricocheting off of several surfaces and landing on his feet like a kitten. He stood up and posed like a gymnast, hands thrown into the air. 

“Please stop,” Bruce grunted. 

“What of myself, Todd?” Damian asked excitedly. 

“You? You were naught but a spud. Angry, evil, spud.”

“Todd!”

“Sike, you were Robin.”

“Good,” Damian grumbled. “And what of yourself?”

Jason thought back to his counterpart. “I was super cool,” he said decisively. “I brought everyone together and was kind of adopted.”

“Weren’t we a family, then?” Bruce asked sadly.

“Kind of,” Jason said. “I think I set you on the path to adoption. Though I don’t know if you can actually adopt a priest.”

The sounds of Tim spit out his eggnog in shock and then wheezing were music to Jason’s ears. 

***

***


End file.
